Consequences (6 page)

T
IM CONTINUED STARING AT
Molly and Marya. “Okay, so far I've figured out this much,” he told the immobile girls. “It has something to do with time. Somehow time moves one way for you and another way for me—and everyone else.”

He put his hands on his hips.
Time is weighed down where they are, keeping them still. They're sort of stuck in it. Funny, I've never thought of time as sticky before.

Tim held out his hands, moving them closer and closer to Marya.
There
. He felt it. The air around her gave him some resistance—it tingled. In a sharp gesture, he plunged his fingers into the slower-moving molecules and yanked what felt like a heavy blanket off Marya.

Marya stumbled forward with such force that she knocked them both over. “Ooof!” Tim grunted.

“Sorry!” Marya giggled and helped Tim to his
feet. He set his glasses back on his nose. “It's so good to see you,” she exclaimed. “I've been meaning to visit you but—”

“Marya!” Tim needed her to stop talking. She was acting as if this were the most normal reunion in the world. That was part of the problem, though: They weren't from the same world.
Actually
, Tim realized,
technically we are. All the kids living in Free Country were originally from here, what they call the Bad World.

Marya took a breath, then began again, words tumbling out of her. “What with exploring and dancing, I just haven't found the time.”

“Marya, slow down a minute,” Tim said. “I need to do something about Molly.”

Marya turned and looked at Molly. “What is wrong with her?”

Tim snorted. “Her
boyfriend
is a magician. And not a very smart one, I'm afraid.” He emphasized the
b
word, testing it out. It didn't sound so bad. But shouldn't he have been included in the discussion when that was decided? It seemed like he was the last to know, as usual.

“Do you think you can catch her?” he asked Marya. “She's bound to have some serious momentum going, like you did, and I don't want her to fall over.”

“Sure thing.”

Marya got into position next to Molly. “Ready.”

Tim felt for the sticky sensation in the air that indicated that time had slowed in that spot. He wiggled his fingers and yanked. Molly lunged forward, and Marya grabbed her, as she nearly tipped over.

“Steady now,” Marya said, helping Molly find her footing.

Molly turned to stare at Tim, wide-eyed and openmouthed. The moment of truth had arrived.

“Magic?” she said.

“Boyfriend?” he countered.

Molly blushed. For the first time in his life, Tim had one-upped her.

She gazed down at her clunky boots. “Uh.”

“Boyfriend,” he repeated. This time, though, it was more of a statement than a question.

Molly laughed. “Well, you had to find out sooner or later. I was hoping that you would work it out yourself.”

“Who, me?” Tim's eyebrows rose. “You know me better than that. I don't notice that it's raining until my glasses fog up.”

“Hm.” Molly took a step closer to him. “Well, I see that you stopped running away, at least.”

“I guess I have.” He took a step closer to her.

“Does that mean you…uh….” She trailed
off and gazed at her feet again.

Astounding
, Tim thought.
Molly O'Reilly—speechless.

He decided to not prolong her discomfort. “Yeah, I guess it does.” He smiled at her.

Only now it was Molly who backed up. Had he already done something wrong?

She studied his face. “Marya wasn't joking, was she? You are a magician?”

She didn't seem afraid, just curious and amazed.

“Uh, yeah, that's true,” he replied. This was going a lot better than he had imagined.

“Wow,” she murmured. Then her eyes widened. “Wow!” she cried.

“Yeah, it
is
pretty exciting,” Tim admitted.

Molly shoved him aside. “It's beautiful!”

Tim turned to see what had distracted Molly, since she was no longer paying any attention to him. His mouth dropped open.

A white unicorn trotted down the alley toward them.

“What are you doing here?” Tim asked the unicorn. He remembered it from the time he had saved Faerie. Tim and the unicorn had defeated the evil manticore together, and while Tim lay dying the unicorn had kept him company.

Okay, things are going from weird to weirder.
First Marya arrives in my world, now the unicorn? What next?
The worlds were all spilling over into each other.
Maybe I am some kind of Opener after all.

Tim blinked behind his glasses. Dark, heavy dust was suddenly swirling along the alley. Marya and Molly began to cough.

“Where is it all coming from?” Molly asked.

“What is it?” Tim wondered.

“Is there a fire nearby?”

“I think it's soot,” Marya choked out. “You know, like from chimneys.”

“There's no wind,” Tim observed. “Why is it blowing around so much?”

“It's not blowing around,” Molly cried. “It's heading straight toward us.”

In moments, Tim, Marya, and Molly were engulfed in the black cloud. The soot and smoke swirled all around them, blocking out the buildings, making them unable to see past a few inches in front of them.

“Let's get out of here.” Molly coughed. “I can't see anything!”

“What about the unicorn?” Marya asked.

“If he's as smart as I think he is, he's already gone,” Tim assured them.

“No, he's not!” Molly cried. “Look!”

The wind had shifted, making a small break in the soot so they could see. The unicorn, overcome
by the fumes and choking on the dirt, sank slowly to the ground.

A harsh voice came out of the black cloud. “I'll say the freakish horsie is gone, you mongrel. And slag me if you ain't a going next!”

Squinting against the nasty air, his eyes tearing, Tim could just make out a figure looming over the fallen unicorn. It was a boy about his age, wearing tattered, old-fashioned clothing and carrying a dingy old broom.

“Daniel?” Marya gasped. “Is that you?”

Underneath London

G
WENDOLYN LED THE BLUE
gentleman through a tunnel filled with water up to their ankles. He was so tall—easily seven feet by Gwendolyn's estimation—that she worried he might scrape those ram's horns he sported on his head against the ceiling in some of the tighter passageways.

“You'll like working for Slaggingham, Lovey-horns,” she explained as they slogged through the muck. “He'll give you room and board. Just think, after you've been on the job awhile, you'll even find calluses on those dainty blue hands.”

The gentleman never said a word. They rarely did, once their souls had been sucked away. Gwendolyn saw the value in Slaggingham's
system; being soulless certainly kept the workers in line. They never once thought of escape, of fighting back. They never once
thought
—only did what they were told to do. They followed orders, these captives, and never questioned, not one little bit.

Sometimes Gwendolyn wondered how Slaggingham had decided which of his merry band to keep and which to discard. She recognized her value—she was bait, pure and simple. But why had Slaggingham dosed her and Brother Salamander with the longevity tonic but not poor old Teddy? Teddy, who had once been known as the Fire King, had become one of the soulless drones, when once he had been among the same rabble-rousing pack of schemers as the luckier ones, like her.

But
are
we the lucky ones?
The revolution long promised by the reverend had failed to materialize. And they'd been at this for so long.

Gwendolyn cast a glance back at her most recent prize. He was quite the catch—a gentleman! A king, no less, if the elegant blue giant were to be believed. He kindled dim memories, from so long ago that they had the unreality of a dream. He brought to mind market days, before things went so horribly wrong for Gwendolyn and her family, before they lost their farm and their
home. She thought she could remember those happy days at the town fair, when she was a wee lass, and creatures of all description ventured to the fair. Gwendolyn had always put those images down to childhood fancy. Seeing this Auberon, this Lovey-horns, made her doubt her doubts.

“It's not as though you're the first king to be captured by the likes of me,” Gwendolyn said. “Are you keen on history, dear? It repeats itself, you know. Go back as far as you like. There's always something to be learned. Take the ancient Romans, for instance. Some of those gents could really tell you what was what. I expect you've learned a great deal today, lordship. I hope it hasn't left you too shaken for one tiny lesson more: how to work as though your royal life depended on it. Which, of course, it does.”

They had arrived at the middle of a metal catwalk, high above the rising steam of an enormous machine clanging and whirring below them.

Gwendolyn leaned over the metal railings. “Hey, Brother Salamander,” she called down to a thin, balding man who was staring at a large clock. “Where's the good reverend got to?”

The thin man looked up. “Don't know, sister. He's forty-nine seconds late for inspection, believe it or not. You might try the commissary. Or his office.”

“Hear that, Lovey-horns? You're in luck. You may get a morsel to eat before you're set to drudge. So step lively now.”

They passed through several more work areas. Not one of the workers glanced up or noticed the astonishing creature in Gwendolyn's charge. She took the blue gentleman to the commissary, where the workers on meal shift were taking a break. No sign of Slaggingham.

“Come along, Lovey-horns,” she said. Without question, Auberon followed her to Slaggingham's office. She gave a sharp rap on the door, then let herself in.

Slaggingham sat in his ratty office, staring at some kind of viewing machine.

“That's it, Daniel, my boy,” Slaggingham murmured at the image on the screen. “You show that blighter Timothy Hunter what's what.”

“Reverend Slaggingham. I've brought you a gent.” Gwendolyn eyed Auberon. “And if he's as strong as he is strange, you'll get a dozen men's work out of him.”

“I'm pleased as carbolic punch to hear that,” Slaggingham said. He may have been speaking to Gwendolyn, but his eyes stayed glued to the screen. “Stow his soul in the strong room and set his privileged carcass to work on the Extractor.”

“Perhaps you'd like to look him over first,
Reverend? He's quite extraordinary, really. He's a king. And he's blue.”

Slaggingham brought his hand down hard on the table with a clang. “Sister, please. I don't care if the waster has a brass monkey's tail. I'll inspect him later. I'm busy, do you hear? Busy! You have your instructions, dolly mop. Follow them.”

“As you please, Reverend.”

She spun around on her heels and left the room. Just outside the office door she stopped. She took in several short breaths in irritation. She slapped her forehead. “I can't believe I forgot.”

She popped her head back inside the doorway. “Come with me, Lovey-horns,” she ordered impatiently. If she hadn't given him the command, he would have stood in Slaggingham's office for hours. Auberon nodded and lumbered back into the tunnel after her.

Gwendolyn's annoyance made her walk quickly. “So I'm a dolly mop now, am I? Hmph. I may flash a smile and an ankle now and then, lordship. But I do it for the cause. I'm as respectable a seamstress as ever starved in a garret, I'll have you know.”

They soon arrived at the locked globe storage room. Gwendolyn held out her hand. “Give me the globe, Lovey-horns.” Auberon complied without question. Gwendolyn pulled a heavy iron key from
her skirt pocket and unlocked the door.

“Stay here,” she commanded. She slipped into the storage room. All that was inside were floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with globes just like the one she held in her hand. She carefully placed it among all the others, and studied it for a moment.
Maybe not
just
like the others
, she mused.

There was something different about his globe; something that made it stand out. She stepped closer and peered at it, noticing the sparkles and the light that glowed within. It seemed to hold something uncanny. Could it be…magical? She shook her head, trying to dispel the unsettling thoughts that arose unbidden as she contemplated the strange new addition to the collection, then stepped back out into the tunnel.

“You know what I remember clearest about my old life?” she told Auberon as she locked the door. She knew he wouldn't understand, but with the mood that she was in, she had the need to talk. “Not the work, though God knows I was hard at it from the day I was old enough to thread a needle.” She led Auberon through the twists and turns of the tunnels, past work stations, past machines, past lives.

“It's the food I remember,” she said. “With my mother and my sister and me all stitching away we could eat twice a day, most days. Cold boiled
potatoes for breakfast. Hot boiled potatoes for supper. Not because we fancied them, but because they were cheap.” She laughed bitterly. “And we were among the lucky ones.” She shook her head. “You know what I want out of this queer little revolution, lordship? A world where no one has to choke down bloody boiled potatoes to keep body and soul together. That's my idea of paradise, Lovey-horns. Amusing, don't you think?”

Gwendolyn set him up at a work station, giving him precise instructions. When she was certain he understood his simple task, she turned to leave. Reaching the archway, she glanced back to make sure he was following her directions. He was. Looking at his elegant form, his velvet breeches and cloak, his soft hands, his silken hair, his gold jewels, a smirk crossed her face. “Just think,” she called to him as she headed for the exit archway. “Here is your chance to see how the other half—” She cut herself off and shook her head. “No,” she corrected herself. “How the other two thirds…” She stopped once again. “How the other ninety percent lives. That's what I call education.”

 

Aboveground London

 

Astonishing
, Tim thought. Underneath all that grime, soot, and dirt lurked the glowering boy
he'd met in Free Country, Daniel. He was the one who had kept bugging him about Marya. And right now he sounded positively homicidal.

Tim coughed, feeling the dark particles clogging his throat, scratching inside his nose, his eyes. Tim tried not to breathe in, and protected his face with his arm. It didn't do much good.

“Tim, pull your shirt up and cover your mouth with it,” Molly instructed. He could see she was shouting through her sweater.

Tim did as he was told, and the burning eased in his throat. His glasses served as some protection for his eyes.

How can Daniel be producing all that soot? It's not as if he has a soot-making machine stowed somewhere.

“All right, Hunter,” Daniel shouted. “Now you're done for.”

Great
, Tim thought.
Just what I want to hear.

Marya took a step toward the swirling mass that seemed to emanate from the angry boy.

“Daniel?” she called. “Is that really you?”

“Marya knows him?” Molly asked Tim.

“They're from the same place,” Tim explained. “This is good. She might be able to help calm him down.”

“What's happened, Daniel?” Marya asked. “Has someone been making you climb down chimneys
again? You're all sooty.”

“I was clean as a whistle when you done run off and left me.”

“I didn't leave
you
, Daniel,” Marya explained reasonably. “I left Free Country.”

“Sure you did,” Daniel snarled. “So you could cozy up to this double-crossing Hunter mongrel.”

Uh-oh
, Tim thought.
Instead of helping, talking to Marya might make Daniel even angrier.

“Tim had nothing to do with it,” Marya said. “I decided that I'd been a child long enough. That's all.”

“Then how come I seen you chasing him not fifteen minutes ago. I saw it. Don't you deny it.”

Tim was impressed with how calm and patient Marya was with Daniel.

“We were chasing him because he was running away,” Marya replied. “He got all embarrassed when he found out I knew he was Molly's boyfriend.”

That really does sound lame
, Tim admitted to himself.
I have to quit that running-away thing once and for all. If Daniel doesn't succeed in doing me in, of course.

Molly elbowed him in the side, then nodded toward Daniel. Tim realized what she was pointing out—Daniel had moved away from the unicorn.

Tim and Molly crept over to the stricken animal. Maybe they could clear its air passages and it would be okay. Tim kept an ear on the conversation between Daniel and Marya, hoping Marya would succeed in calming the boy down. Molly pulled tissues out of her jacket pocket and wiped the unicorn's eyes.

“It was my own fault, really,” Marya said. “I should never have said anything. Molly told me he was funny about stuff like that.”

Tim watched Daniel's face.
I wouldn't believe it if I was him
, Tim thought.
And if I
did
believe it, I'd think this Tim Hunter was one foolish moron. Running away isn't just pointless
, Tim realized.
It's dangerous in the long run.

“You're lying, Marya,” Daniel hissed. “'Cause you're afraid of me. 'Cause I'm strong now.”

The unicorn snorted, which caught Daniel's attention. He glanced over to Molly and Tim. Waving his broom in fury, he stumbled backward away from Marya. “So that's the dodge, eh, Marya!” he shouted. “Soften me up while your Timothy undoes all my work!” He strode toward Molly and Tim.

Tim stood quickly. “Look out, Molly. Deranged chimney sweep heading our way.”

“I see him.” Molly stroked the unicorn's head.
It was a lot cleaner now. With Molly's coaxing, the creature scrambled to its feet. Only then did Molly stand up, too.

“Hey! You with the black hair,” Daniel yelled. “Hook it or you'll catch some of what your pal's got coming.”

“
Boy
friend,” Molly corrected. “As of today, he is my boyfriend. Make a note. And here's another note. I used to have a unicorn. A toy one. It was plastic with a stupid rainbow mane.”

“So?” Daniel sneered through his soot. He took a step closer, obviously trying to intimidate her. He was about six inches taller than Molly, but that didn't seem to faze her at all.

Tim hid a smile.
They must not have anyone like Molly O'Reilly where Daniel's from or he'd know better than to talk to her like that.

“My big brother stole that unicorn,” Molly continued. “Then he poured petrol on it and burned it to a crisp. Just for a lark.”

“Hah! Did he now?” Daniel was positively smirking. He got right in her face. “Left you a-crying your little eyes out, did he?”

Molly didn't even flinch. “Yeah, I cried a little.”

Uh-oh, here it comes
, Tim thought. He actually felt sorry for Daniel.

“You should have heard
him
, though,” Molly said. “After
I
got through with him.” Molly gave
Daniel a hard, swift kick right where it hurt most. Daniel let out a grunt and doubled over, then collapsed onto his knees.

Molly turned and walked back to Tim and the unicorn.

“Awesome, Molly,” Tim said.

Molly held her foot out to show Tim. “Yeah, these boots are good for that sort of thing.”

She stroked the wheezing unicorn's trembling flanks. It was still struggling to breathe. “Let's get this poor thing out of here.”

Marya gazed sadly at Daniel, then moved over to join them. “Is it okay?” she asked, patting the unicorn's velvety nose.