The Shadow Cabinet (26 page)

26

I
OPENED
MY
EYES
.

I think I did, anyway. Maybe they were already open. Everything was moving in a wide circle, like a carousel. Then everything decided to move in smaller and smaller circles until it stayed still—not that this helped much. I was in a dark place, with little tongues of dancing light around. It smelled very strongly of something smoky. There were voices.

“She's moving.”

“Did she open her eyes?”

“Move back.”

“Get her water.”

Then there was a glass of water hovering over me, clasped in a hand. Someone was helping me sit up by pulling me up under the armpits. The water was put to my lips, and I drank some, but I had trouble swallowing, and it ran down my chin.

“Rory?”

That voice I knew. I turned to see Jane next to me. I was on a sofa, covered in a blanket. It was Jane who was giving me the water.

“You'll need this,” she said, wiping my chin with her hand. “Try to drink.”

Something thrummed in the back of my mind—a kind of ticking clock. I had to hurry. But hurry to do what? No, something had to happen now. Something should have happened? Was I late for class?

I drank again, and it ran out of my mouth again. A third try was more successful, and the water going down my throat turned out to be one of the most welcome feelings I could imagine. I gulped more and more, until I choked on the water and Jane took the glass away.

There were other people in this dark room. I'd seen them before, but couldn't place them at the moment. A boy with blond hair and a girl with dark brown hair. The boy reminded me very strongly of someone. His clothes were weird—like a costume. He was trying to dress like someone I knew.

“We weren't sure if you were coming back for a moment,” Jane said. Her voice was affectionate. I knew I shouldn't be with Jane, but she was taking care of me. Why? And these three people on the floor—two looked strange but familiar. And Stephen? Why was he sleeping on the floor? I knew the answer to this question, but I couldn't place it.

“What . . .”

“It's all right,” Jane said. “Now you are returned, by the blessing of Demeter, you are returned.”

Jane stood and addressed the group.

“It is time,” she said. “The vigil is over. If it is to happen, it will happen now. For this, I must be alone with them, and you must do your part. Blessed Demeter.”

Everyone in the room said, “Blessed Demeter.” Then there were hugs, like this was a big day. The group trailed out, and it was just Jane and me and Stephen and the two strangers on the floor.

“You have been very brave, Rory,” she said.

How did I know these people? I had definitely seen them before. If only I could
think
. I should have been more concerned about Stephen, but it felt like we'd just been talking? In his father's room. No. Somewhere else. Another room. I'd been with Stephen in another room.

All my thoughts were like balloons. I'd reach for them, but they'd float off if I didn't catch the string just right. All I knew was that I had to get off this sofa and to Stephen. This was maybe a distance of eight feet, but at the moment it felt like it might as well have been eight miles. When I tried to move, all my limbs were heavy. They got the message from my brain that they were supposed to do something, but they didn't seem to have a clear idea of what. Instead of standing, I fell from the sofa. My legs were two dumb sacks of meat. I dragged myself along the floor. I could only think of a picture I must have seen in art history—maybe other places—a famous painting of a girl dragging herself across a field toward a house that seems so vital and far away. Of all the things my brain was offering me now, only this was clear. I was the girl in the field, and I had to move myself across this room. The physical effort this took cleared my mind a bit more. Stephen . . . Stephen was . . .

I was getting some motion in my knees now, which meant I could crawl the last two paces. Jane paid me no mind. She was intent on the two strangers. They looked so much alike, blond and weird and dressed in white. I knew these people. I knew I didn't want to be in the same room with them. By the time I got to Stephen, I was exhausted. I fell against his chest. It wasn't moving.

“It will be soon,” Jane said to me.

I wanted to ask her what this meant. I wanted the fog in my mind to clear. I
had
to clear it. I knew something very, very important.

“Stephen,” I said, shaking his arm.

Then Jane let out a tiny, high-pitched noise. The female stranger had moved. I saw her foot twitch.

“Blessed Demeter,” Jane whispered. “Blessed Demeter . . . Sadie? Sadie?”

Then the other one moved. Jane covered her mouth with her hands.

Stephen was not moving. Now I felt panic. He was supposed to be moving. Everything was wrong. His chest didn't rise and fall, and I felt like I was supposed to know why. The other two gained movement bit by bit. The process took several minutes. Their movements were tiny. There'd be a violent jerk of a knee or an arch of the back. The male figure sat up on his elbows and, with what seemed to be great effort, opened his eyes fully.

“My word,” he said. “I'm not doing that again.”

He looked right at me and broke out into a long, snaky grin.

“Hello, you,” he said.

He turned on one side to examine the woman next to him. He took her face gently in his hand.

“Sadie. Wakey, wakey.”

“Oh . . .” Her voice was like a songbird's. “Oh, Sid.”

“I know. But it gets better when you sit up.”

He didn't seem that strong himself, but he managed to help prop her up. She was like a rag doll. Then, as soon as she was upright, she seemed more alert. Her eyes snapped open.

“Sid?”

“I don't think we're in Kansas anymore,” he said. He managed to get to his knees, and then, with effort, to stand. He extended a hand and helped his sister from the floor. They relished their movement for a moment, flexing their hands, bending their elbows, moving their heads from side to side. This was when they noticed Jane, who was kneeling behind them.

“Jane?” Sadie said.

“It's been so long,” Jane said. She had been sitting there, like a brook waiting to burble. Now that they had spoken to her, it all came out in a loud, wailing kind of cry. She scrambled to her feet.

“There, there,” Sid said, putting his arms around her and tucking her head to his shoulder. “It's all right. We're all here now.”

“Hello, you,” Sadie said, looking down at me. “Do you remember us? We've met. You're Rory.”

“You know me?”

Sadie smiled lightly and extended her arms, offering to help me from the ground. I stayed where I was.

“She's looking a bit rocky,” Sid said while guiding Jane to the sofa. “I don't think she was quite as prepared for the journey as we were. Our trip took a bit longer, but we seem to have arrived in better condition. It does pay to go first class, doesn't it?”

“It does,” Sadie said, looking down at me. “We prepared for months. But you'll be all right in time. Don't worry.”

Sadie crouched down by me and took my left arm, flipping it over and examining it. It appeared I'd been cut. Someone had bandaged the wound. This was familiar. I looked over at the rock on the floor and saw some dark red drops on it. That was my blood.

“She's been cut,” Sadie said. “There's blood on the stone. Is it hers?”

“I told you there was something about this one,” Sid said.

“There is,” Sadie said. She tilted my chin up so I was looking at her face. “What is it about you?”

Jane managed to pull herself together for a moment. She coughed a bit and wiped at her face and straightened up.

“She's got part of the Eye of Isis in her,” she said, her voice thick.

“No!” Sadie said. “You are joking. That's marvelous. Oh, Sid. Isn't it?”

“It is,” Sid said, giving Jane a shoulder-squeeze. “Jane, you rotten old cleverclogs. You found a living stone. No wonder that one there on the floor was so protective of her.”

“And the stone,” Sadie said, pointing her heavily sleeved arm at the rock. “The Oswulf, I believe. Darling Jane. However did you find it?”

“It took a long time. There's so much to tell you.”

“I'll imagine there is,” Sid said. “It looks like you've recreated our work, gotten some of the knowledge.”

“I had to get to you.”

“And you did. That's why you're our Jane.”

Sadie peeled my bandage back carefully. When I winced, she slowed.

“I'll be careful,” she said. Her voice was so soft.

The cut was dark and ugly, still seeping blood. But it wasn't deep. I had been standing in the middle of the floor when I got it, I remembered. I had been standing on the stone. I drank something. This house belonged to someone I'd just met. A doctor. There had been a doctor, and Stephen had been asleep upstairs. It had something to do with Charlotte, but I couldn't remember what.

“What made this wound?” she asked.

“Right there,” Jane said. “Under the cloth.”

There was a low table in front of the sofa, with a number of strange items on it—a golden bowl and a white cloth stained red. Sid picked this up with his free hand and revealed a curved knife, like a crescent moon.

“This looks familiar,” he said.

“It's one of yours. It was blessed with water from the river, thrice blessed.”

“That's quite correct,” Sid said. “You've learned the ritual well. You've done so much, Jane.”

“I did it,” she said. “I watched. All this time. I never stopped. I've kept you safe. I've worked so hard. I had to learn so much.”

“It certainly seems that way,” Sid said.

“I'm almost as advanced as you now. I've conferred the sight to a non-seer . . .”

“
Did
you?” Sadie said, cocking her head to the side and looking at her brother.

“Yes. And as you can see, I've worked the mysteries. I'm ready. I've been waiting all this time. I want to ascend. I want to be with you. We'll be together, always. We will defeat death once and for all.”

“Jane.” Sid pulled her close once again, kissing the top of her head as he did so. “Oh, Jane.”

“Sweet Jane,” Sadie said.

It happened so fast. Sid's arm swung up and the blade went right to the exposed side of Jane's neck. He pulled it straight along the side and hooked it out at the end. I saw something fly out of Jane, and it took me a moment to realize it was her blood. Sid set the knife down and embraced her again, holding her to his chest as she convulsed. I watched his white suit turning red.

“Don't fight it,” he said, clasping Jane's head down on his shoulder. “Now, now, Jane. Let go. Almost there. Come now. Almost there. I've got you.”

After a minute or so, she stopped moving. Her hand, which had been clawing at Sid's thigh, went limp. Her entire body sagged, and she dropped in his arms. What was funny was that I was very calm watching Jane die like that. I'd been drugged. I was thankful for it now. It was clouding my thoughts, but it also made the scene bearable. It also helped me remember. I'd come here to rescue Stephen. I'd been in a ritual. He was supposed to wake because of what I'd done. It all rolled back into my mind like some footage from a movie I didn't remember being in, but clearly had been.

“Oh, Sid,” Sadie said, her voice a sad sigh. “It had to be.”

“I know,” he said. He adjusted himself to let Jane's body fall across his lap. “But I feel guilty. She's done such a good job.”

“Don't tear yourself up about it,” Sadie said. “I'm sure she had a good life.”

“Very true. You see . . .” Sid bent down over Jane's body to address me as if I were a small child. “This is all quite powerful magic that's been happening here. Jane's done a good enough job, I suppose, but it's not very elegant, and there are far too many loose ends. It must seem beastly, but you have to be a bit ruthless with these things. Magic is not for the weak. She was useful, and we cared for her deeply . . .”

“Deeply,” Sadie said.

“You need to be special. I can tell you these things, because you're special, aren't you? My sister and I are special too. We knew we could ascend, become more than people who live and die. You need assistance in these things. You need staff. We needed Jane's help, and poor old thing, she always thought we were going to help her ascend once we'd done it. But you don't bring the help with you on a journey like that. You don't share the magic and wisdom of the ages with just anyone. No. The power lies in keeping the information to yourself. You can't go around giving people the sight and re-creating the mysteries so haphazardly. We did it neatly. We took our little group along with us. But this lot . . .”