The Twilight Prisoner (11 page)

“I knew we couldn't trust him,” Euri said.

They were flying aimlessly above the crooked streets of the financial district. They passed the white marble columns and sculpted frieze of the New York Stock Exchange, where a few ghost traders in blue and red jackets dashed inside, then circled the towering brownstone spire of Trinity Church. In the church cemetery, a few ghosts floated among the tilted, faded tombstones, looking for their names. Jack could tell from the living homeless, carefully positioned over the subway grates or wrapped in cardboard and wedged against the doors of the financial firms, that it had grown even colder.

He sneaked a glance at Cora. He could tell from her furrowed brow that she was still thinking about what Colonel Mann had said. He floated down to the front steps of Trinity Church and faced her. “You're not going to die,” he said.

Cora looked away from him. “Don't keep saying that to me.”

“But you're not. I promise—”

“My mom is always promising me she's not going to die,” Cora interrupted.

Euri silently joined them.

“We all die,” said Jack gently. “But I'm sure she won't for a long, long—”

“She's getting worse,” Cora said, her voice cracking. “And now, I'm dying too.”

“No, you're not!” Euri insisted. “We know Viele can get you out. And we know he hasn't moved on. We just need to figure out where he is.”

“Austin!” said Cora.

Jack gave her a puzzled look. “What would he know?”

Cora pointed past Jack to something on the street. “No, look! There!”

His head down and his hands in his pocket, Austin was walking up Broadway. Beside him was the chubby ghost. Jack could clearly make out his features for the first time, and he suddenly realized why he looked so familiar—he had been in the tunnel with Dr. Earle when Jack had used the ghost repellent. The ghost must have found and befriended Austin after he ran off.

“Austin!” Cora shouted.

Austin turned around. But as soon as he caught sight of them, he grabbed the ghost's hand and they hastily flew away.

“Hey, Austin,” Jack shouted after him, “what are you doing? It's just us!”

They waited for him to turn around, but he never even looked back.

“Why is he avoiding us?” Cora asked as they watched him race uptown.

“Maybe he just wants to keep searching for his brother without us?” Jack offered. But secretly, he wondered if Austin was also mad at him. The chubby ghost must have explained to him that he was trapped, and now Austin wanted nothing to do with them.

“Maybe we should go after him?” said Cora. “Maybe if I talk to him?”

“Forget him for now,” grumbled Euri. “We need to focus on finding Viele.”

Cora gave her an exasperated look. “We're out of clues.”

“Well, I guess there's no point, then,” snapped Euri. “Maybe you should just go haunt your mom, and I should—”

“Why do you haunt the guy in the tenement, anyway?” Cora asked.

Euri's pale eyes shifted. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Are you trying to move on?”

“No,” Euri said tensely.

Cora's jaws began to work in the familiar gum-chewing motion. “But, wait, how exactly do you move on?”

“I told you I'm not moving on,” Euri said.

“Not you. Ghosts in general.”

Jack sensed that Cora was on to something. “You have to face up to the problems you had in life,” he explained.

Cora chewed her imaginary gum thoughtfully. “Right. So when ghosts are getting ready to move on, they wouldn't haunt the places where they were successful. They'd haunt the people and places that made them unhappy, that made them feel like failures, so they could start facing up to them.”

“I'm not trying to move on,” Euri said.

“Not you,” Cora repeated, her eyes flashing. “Viele! We know Viele wanted to design the park but failed. According to Colonel Mann, he was never able to face up to that failure. The guys in the tunnel said he's going to a place with a better view. Maybe he's trying to move on, maybe he's trying to come to terms with his failure.”

“So where would he go?” asked Jack.

“The park,” said Cora. “He'd have to go to the park!”

“Say you're right,” Jack said. “That still leaves us with the problem of where in the park.” He looked at his pocket watch. “We only have another hour or so till dawn.”

“Where's Viele's Central Park map?” Cora asked.

Jack pulled it out of his backpack, and they all sat down on the stone steps to study it.

“Is there any place that looks like it could be a beautiful view?” Cora asked.

Euri shook his head. “There are a ton of places with beautiful views.”

“Then we're just not seeing it,” said Cora stubbornly.

Jack stared hard at the map. He scanned the hills and streams and squatters' camp and the reservoir in the center of the map that no longer existed. But there was nothing to see.
“Videre,”
he mumbled to himself.

Cora turned to him. “What did you just say?”

Jack felt his face turn red. “
Videre
. It just popped into my head. I just wish I could—”

“‘To see,' the root of the word ‘view,'” Cora recited. She grabbed Jack's arm.
“Bellus!”

Jack shook his head, not following. But then suddenly the two words came together and he leaped to his feet. “
Bellus videre.
That's it!”

“Belvedere Castle,” Cora whispered. “Viele's got to be inside. It's too perfect.”

They were floating just above a grassy knoll on the bank of Turtle Pond, looking out across the water at a miniature Victorian castle perched atop a jagged outcropping of rock. At this hour, Central Park was filled with ghosts. As they had flown across it, they had spotted them lining up at Bethesda Fountain, taking one last flight above the Ramble, hanging from the trees, as pale and translucent as the fluttering plastic bags occasionally tangled beside them in the branches. But Jack didn't see a single spirit floating around the castle. Only an American flag at the very top of the highest turret flapped in the wind. Jack pointed to it. “There must be a great view from up there.”

“There's also probably a great view of who's coming,” said Euri. “So how did you figure this out again?”

“
Bellus videre
is the Latin for a beautiful view,” said Jack. “It's also the root of the word Belvedere.” He scanned the balconies. “I don't see anyone standing watch.”

“It doesn't matter. We know the guards don't want Viele to be found. We can't just fly in there and shout out his name.” Euri held out her hands to them.

“What are you going to do?” Cora asked.

“We're going to have to sneak in,” said Euri. “We don't have much time. Come on.”

As soon as they took Euri's hands, she fell forward, pulling them down with her. But instead of hitting the ground, they hovered horizontally a few feet above it. Jack realized she was doing the aerial version of a stomach crawl. They skirted the banks of Turtle Pond, drifting just above the long grass toward the castle wall. At the wall, Euri turned them upright so they were pressed against the stone. Then they started to float up it, the rough-hewn schist blocks grazing Jack's nose. As soon as they reached a parapet, Euri poked her head above it and looked around. “All clear,” she whispered.

They slid over the parapet and onto a balcony that overlooked the park. Jack could see the blinking lights of the city past the darkened clumps of trees. But before he could linger, Euri pulled him and Cora under a stone arch and into the castle. They drifted past an information desk, brochures and maps lined up across it, and into a darkened room filled with science exhibits and models of the park's wildlife. Euri led them in a quick circle around it, but there was no one—either dead or alive—inside. Just past the information desk, Jack noticed a set of narrow, winding stairs and silently pointed them out to Euri. She nodded and they began to float up them. As they spiraled around and around, Jack squeezed Cora's hand. He hoped they were right about the clue. If Viele wasn't at Belvedere castle, Jack had a feeling they would never find him.

“There's no one here,” Cora whispered flatly as they reached the small landing at the top of the stairs.

Jack looked out through a narrow window. Just past Turtle Pond, he could see a dark clearing, illuminated at its edges by a few lights. “You can see the Great Lawn from here. But in Viele's time, that would have been the reservoir on his map. It would have been the perfect view for someone who cared about drinking water.”

“It's a clever idea,” Euri said gently. “But maybe Viele didn't know Latin.”

Suddenly, from downstairs, Jack heard barking intermingled with loud voices.

“Take the mutt up to the tower!” a guard ordered. “See if there's someone there.”

Jack tightened his grip on Cora's hand and looked up at the ceiling, planning their escape. And that's when he noticed the outline of a metal door in the ceiling. He grabbed Euri's arm and pointed. She nodded, and together, they flew up through it.

They found themselves in a dimly lit circular room, barely larger than a closet. A balding gray-haired ghost dressed in a high-collared dark suit was floating by the one porthole-size window. He was small, not much taller than Cora, but had a big head and an oversized white walrus mustache. Jack was certain they had found Viele. But there was no time to confirm this. As heavy footsteps echoed up the stairwell below, Jack turned to the man and with a pleading expression, put his finger to his lips. Cerberus's thick body slammed against the walls as he clambered up the stairs, softly howling.

“Viele, is everything all right up there?” a deep voice shouted out.

Jack squeezed Cora's hand.

“Yes,” said the mapmaker. “It's fine.”

“We were just outside,” the guard continued from the landing below. “The mutt thought he smelled someone alive near the pond, but we didn't find anyone. He's acting the same way now.”

“There's no one here,” Viele grumbled. “How am I supposed to move on if you keep disturbing me?”

Beneath them, they could hear the guard mutter, “Come on, you stupid beast,” and a disappointed squeal from all three of Cerberus's heads as he was dragged back down the stairs.

As soon as the footsteps receded, Jack turned to Viele. “Thank you. I'm Jack. This is Cora and Euri.”

Viele studied Jack's face with a look of curiosity. “Sorry about the dog. The guards want me to move on, you see. They don't want anyone to disturb me while I'm trying.”

“Why?” asked Cora.

“Because I know more about the underworld than they do,” Viele said. He pointed at Cora's eyes. “And because of living visitors who come searching for me like you. Each time I help them, I affect the living world, and it takes me longer to move on.”

Euri grimaced. “Do you
want
to move on?”

The mapmaker shrugged. “Does anyone really want to? It's your problems that make you feel alive. Who wants to let go of the little hurts and pains that made you you?” He turned to Jack. “Though of course you don't realize that when you're living.”

“So you think I'm alive?” asked Jack eagerly.

“I think you can be alive,” Viele said, “if you choose.”

Jack wanted to ask Viele what he meant but before he could, Euri cut in. “So if you don't want to move on, why are you here?” she asked, almost angrily.

“I never said I didn't want to,” Viele corrected. “I just said it's hard.” He frowned. “Do you know the story of Prospero?”

Jack nodded. “Shakespeare wrote a play about him. He's a sorcerer who lives on an island and controls everyone who lives there through magic.”

“That's right,” said Viele. “Do you know what he does at the end of the play?”

“He gets rid of his magic books.”

Viele sighed. “I left my maps and papers behind. I stopped trying to order about the engineers in the water tunnel I used to haunt. I came back here to Central Park—the one place on this island where I never had any power—or at least the power I wanted to have. But it turns out that the hardest things to give up are the ones you never really controlled in the first place: how people feel about you, how the world remembers you—”

“But there are still things you can control,” Euri interrupted. “Like helping Jack and Cora get back to the living world. There's a Security Alert. The guards are watching all the streams and rivers, including the one they came in through. But you must know another way out.”

Viele closed his eyes, his expression pained. When he opened them again, he gave a sad smile. “You're asking me to take up my wand again.”

“If it were just me—” Jack began, but Euri flashed him a fierce look. “The thing is, Cora didn't choose to come here,” he continued. “We need a second chance.”

“I need to move on,” Viele said quietly.

“Please,” said Cora. “If I die, my mother . . .” She shook her head unable to go on.

The thump of boots followed by the clank of a chain leash as it dragged across stone suddenly echoed on the stairs below. “Viele!” A voice shouted. “They've just raised the Living Threat Level! We're coming up.”

Jack quickly pulled Viele's maps and reports out of his backpack. “Just tell us where it is,” he pleaded.

“I hear voices up there!” another guard shouted.

Viele yanked the map of Central Park out of the pile. “Here. You'll find epiphany in Seneca,” he whispered as he handed it back to Jack.

Before Jack could ask Viele more, Cerberus, with a ferocious bark, leaped up through the trapdoor. Euri grabbed Cora's hand and yanked her into the air but not before one of Cerberus's heads pulled off her sneaker. The guard lunged at Jack, who flew up over his arms and out through the tower roof.