The Mapmaker's Sons (24 page)

The passage to the Other Side sealed behind them, Tom trailed Umbrey out of the woods. The Lost Academy loomed in front of them, a darkly Gothic structure that seemed to blot out the sun. As they strode across the lawn, Tom's friends surged toward him, welcoming him back with congratulatory shouts and slaps on the back. Apparently the rumor that he'd been temporarily suspended from school following his stunt on the roof had been widely accepted. Tom returned their smiles as best he could and feigned an equal enthusiasm to be back.

Instead of returning him to his dorm room, Umbrey marched Tom to the administration building and rapped jauntily on Professor Lost's door. Without waiting for a call to enter, he swung it open and breezed inside. “Ah, my good friend,” he said, greeting an astonished Lost, “you may put your fears to rest. We are safely returned.”

Lost rose from his chair, his thin lips curving downward in displeasure. “Umbrey,” he said. “Thomas Hawkins.” His beady eyes scanned them both. “Am I to infer from your gloating demeanor that your business has been satisfactorily concluded?”

“It was indeed,” Umbrey returned. “Brilliantly accomplished, I must say.”

Lost thought for a moment, then gave a tight nod. “Very well, then.”

“You're the scribe,” Tom said. “You knew all along about Marrick's prophecy, about my parents, my brother, about everything, but you never told me.”

Lost's jaw tightened. “I couldn't tell you.” He shook his head. “Not when I swore a sacred oath to your father to keep you here, safe, until he came for you.”

“So? That doesn't matter. I should have
known.”

“And what would you have done if you had known?”

Tom thought of the unnamed longing that had driven him up to the rooftops. A longing so strong it had kept him awake at night. And that was before he understood who he was and where he'd come from. If Lost had shared that with him, there would have been nothing the headmaster could have done to hold him back. He would have found the passage to his family somehow. He said as much. Lost gave a curt nod. “You understand my predicament, then.” He reached into his drawer and withdrew a small envelope. “Given recent events, however, I am now at liberty to give you this.”

Tom opened the envelope to find a small portrait of a handsome dark-haired man and a beautiful blond woman smiling up at him. “My parents.”

“Yes.”

Lost turned and lifted a thick stack of books, dropping them with a thump in front of Tom. “Mr. Hawkins,” he said, resuming the air of stern headmaster, “I have taken the liberty
of assembling the classwork you missed while you were away. You may thank me later.”

Tom surveyed the pile with a sinking heart.

Before he could reply, a bell rang out, echoing shrilly across the room. Professor Lost removed a watch fob from his pocket, checked the time, and gave a curt nod. “You will be relieved to know the bells have been restored to perfect working order,” he said. “That means you have returned in time for Principles of Geometric Theory. I suggest you arrive promptly.”

Tom managed a nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Very good.” Lost slipped his watch back into his pocket. “I trust that we can put this unpleasant episode behind us and that there will be no further foolishness.” He moved to the door, then hesitated a moment, turning back to Tom.

“See to it that you change into your proper uniform before you return to class. That knit shirt looks like women's clothing.”

Tom's head snapped up. A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. He watched Professor Lost's narrow back as he exited his office, closing the door firmly behind him.

Umbrey slapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously, giving a satisfied smile. “Well, there you are. The Principles of Geometric Theory. Exciting. Right back in the thick of things, eh, lad?”

Tom lifted his gaze to Umbrey. “So that's it? That's the end of it?”

Umbrey's brows shot skyward. “The end? You think that was the end? Don't you remember me telling you that your father was the greatest cartographer the world has ever known? Do you truly believe he only drew one map?”

He pulled back a set of dull brown draperies to reveal a narrow wooden door. Opening it with a flourish, he motioned for Tom to enter. Tom hesitated, then brushed past Umbrey and stepped inside.

The room was slightly wider than Lost's office and twice as tall. Maps were plastered on every wall, piled on every shelf. Maps spilled out of cabinets. Maps dangled from the ceiling
like flags from faraway countries. Tom walked through the room in a daze, the maps brushing against him like soft skins. It was as though he were traveling through a vast upside-down maze of ancient parchments. They were everywhere he looked. Ancient maps of distant lands, long-lost legends, raging seas, and mythical beasts.

“The end?” Umbrey repeated, smiling broadly. “My dear lad, this was only the beginning.”