CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Michael’s Army

Kate opened her eyes and sat up. Both proved to be mistakes. Pain shot through her skull, and she groaned.

“Easy now, girl. Easy.”

She was back on her cot in the tent. It was dark outside, but a small lantern on the floor gave up a dim, yellow light. On Michael’s cot, leaning forward and offering her something in his hand, was the burly form of Hugo Algernon.

“Drink this.”

“What is it?”

“Whiskey.”

“What—”

“Kidding. It’s water. You’ve had fever. Drink.”

She did; the water was cool and tasted marvelous.

“Those children on the beach…”

“Both fine.” He chuckled. “More than you can say for that Imp you skewered. That was a good one. Like something Clare would’ve done.”

“Clare…”

“Your mother. She always had a spark in her.”

Kate nodded, but wondered if he was just saying that to make her feel better. As it was, it did make her feel better.

“What about the others? In the attack?”

“All taken care of. There was only a single raider. How’s your noodle?”

Kate felt the back of her head. It was still tender from where it had struck the rock, though she knew that wasn’t why she’d passed out. “Fine.”

“So,” Hugo Algernon said, “how much have you told your brother about what’s going on?”

Kate looked at him sharply. The lamp on the floor cast shadows across his face, and she couldn’t see his eyes. How could he possibly know about Rafe appearing to her?

But he went on, and she realized what he actually meant:

“The boy knows you’re having trouble controlling the Atlas. You said as much yourself. Have you told him the rest? What it feels like?”

Kate shrugged. “A little. He feels some of it too.”

“But not like you do.”

Kate shook her head.

Hugo Algernon grunted. “It’ll get worse. For both of you.”

“Why? What’s happening?”

Kate hadn’t forgotten what Rafe had told her in the land of the giants, his warning about the damage the Books were causing, but she found she needed to hear it from someone else.

Hugo Algernon pulled a small bottle from his pocket, uncorked it, and poured some into a cup. The biting, sour smell of spirits filled the tent. He took a sip and grimaced before speaking.

“There’re things you need to know. You and your brother. I talked to von Klappen and she agrees.”

Kate was surprised to hear him refer to the witch with such apparent lack of venom.

“Yes, yes, I know. She’s an insufferable, humorless know-it-all, but she’s good at what she does.” Hugo Algernon leaned forward. “Did Pym ever caution you about not using the Books unless it was absolutely necessary?”

Kate nodded.

“Ever say why?”

“Not really.”

“What do you know about quantum mechanics?”

“Nothing.”

“Good. Load of rubbish.”

“What’s that got—”

“Not a thing. Don’t interrupt. First off, you have to understand that when it’s working right, the universe is this perfectly balanced mechanism. All the pieces fitting together just so. Only, it’s fragile. And when Pym and his buddies pulled out the magic that went into the Books, they upset that balance. That’s for starters.” He leaned closer. “But this is where it becomes tricky. Because yes, the Dire Magnus is the enemy, no doubt about it. He gets hold of the Books, the Reckoning especially, he’ll wreak havoc and probably destroy the entire world. So that’s bad, and we should do something about it. But in the end, he’s not the real threat.”

“Who is?” Kate asked quietly.

Hugo Algernon looked at her. “You are, girl. Your family. See, the magic in the Books is still connected to the magic responsible for all this.” He made a gesture to indicate the world outside the tent. “So every time you and your brother, and soon your sister, use the Books, things get more and more out of whack. The reason you passed out is that you’re feeling how much harm you’re causing. And it’s getting worse. The universe is breaking apart at the seams.”

“So we’ll just stop using the Books!”

“Too late for that.”

“But there has to be something we can do!”

He nodded. “There is. The Books have to be destroyed.”

“And that would fix it?”

“Yes. The problem is that the Books themselves are pretty much indestructible. I mean, the Chronicle was in a pool of lava for a thousand years and it doesn’t have a scratch on it.”

“But there’s a way around that, isn’t there?” Kate’s voice was no more than a whisper.

The man sat back, poured himself more whiskey, and took a sip. “Yeah. There’s a way.”

And now it was Kate talking, her mind rushing forward, as it all suddenly made sense, the tearing she’d felt every time she used the Atlas, both in the world and inside herself, the true meaning of the prophecy.

“If the magic were in something that could be destroyed—like in a person, like me, or Michael, or Emma—and we were to die, that would do it. That would fix things.”

Hugo Algernon nodded. “The magic of the Atlas is already in you. If the Chronicle’s not inside your brother, it soon will be. And the same for the Reckoning once your sister gets it.”

“And then we die, and the universe is fixed.” Kate felt nauseous from the closed tent, the smell of the man’s whiskey. She wanted to get away but she couldn’t, not yet. “Then…why’s the Dire Magnus even matter?”

“I told you, he’ll try to control the power. Like turning a nuclear reactor into a nuclear bomb. And he’ll be able to, for a while. Even if it means destroying this world to create another. So we have to stop the Dire Magnus. But we also have to destroy the Books.”

“You mean you have to kill me and my brother and sister,” Kate said coldly.

“I didn’t say that. Von Klappen and Chu and I’ve been talking—”

“I need to find Michael.”

And she rushed out of the tent, into the night air, and stopped.

She heard Hugo Algernon come out behind her.

“Yeah, I was gonna tell you about that next.”

The island was nearly empty. The campfires were out. The encampments, gone. The few soldiers who were still there were busy helping the refugee families load onto ships. And Kate realized that she’d been aware, the whole time she’d been talking to Hugo Algernon, of how quiet it had been outside the tent.

“What happened? Where is everyone?”

“We’re moving the families. Just in case that scout ship reported our location to the enemy. But the army’s gone to Loris. Left just before sunset.”

“But they’re outnumbered! It’s suicide! Everyone said so.”

“Well now.” Hugo Algernon scratched his beard. “You’ve been unconscious a while. That attack sort of pulled everyone together. Made those nitwits remember who the real enemy was. And then King Robbie had this idea—for a dwarf, he’s not completely thick—he appointed a new commander, one that was acceptable to all three races. It’s mostly a ceremonial position, of course, but soon as word got out, new recruits started pouring in from around the world. Von Klappen and Chu and I must’ve had a dozen portals going nonstop. From noon to sunset the army doubled, then tripled in size. They’ve got a chance. Not a big one. But a chance.”

Kate turned to face him. “Who’s the new commander?”

Hugo Algernon grinned and actually looked sheepish. “Well, imagine there was a human who was also an honorary dwarf and who just so happened to be the boyfriend of an elf princess. If you can, try to see the humor in this….”

—

Michael stood on the deck of the ship. There was no moon, which was a good thing, but the stars were clustered densely overhead. The air was warm and heavy with salt. He was wearing the chain mail tunic King Robbie had given him, which was remarkably light and supple, and he also had on dwarfish battle leathers, which were thicker and stiffer than he would have liked. A sword and a knife, both given to him by King Robbie, were strapped to his waist. He stared out at the fleet—his fleet—spread across the dark water.

(Michael knew it was silly to think of any of it—the ships, the soldiers—as his, that he was commander in name only, but he couldn’t help himself.)

As all the ships were sailing at the same speed, they hardly seemed to be moving, but Michael could hear the sluicing of water across the hulls, the snapping of ropes, the creak and whine of wood.

All afternoon, as Kate had lain unconscious in their tent, watched over alternately by him or Hugo Algernon or Magda von Klappen or Wilamena—soldiers had arrived to swell their ranks. The first to arrive had been the fighters from Gabriel’s village, two dozen stern-faced, dark-haired men whose presence in the camp had filled Michael with confidence. Then there were dwarves from Lapland, who came with icicles hanging from their beards and axes as long as they were tall; river elves from Thailand, who spoke a language that even the other elves couldn’t understand; more elves from the mountains of Morocco, who dressed in long, colorful robes; human fighters from the Badlands….

So many, Michael thought. But would it be enough?

Magda von Klappen stood on the foredeck conversing with Master Chu. She had already had the same conversation with Michael that Hugo Algernon had had with Kate.

“But we still have to deal with the Dire Magnus,” Michael had said. “And we still have to rescue Emma.”

“Yes. If he gains control of the Reckoning, we are all dead anyway.”

“And if we beat him, then just me and my sisters have to die.”

“We’re working on that,” the witch had said.

Even now, Michael marveled at his own calmness. It was as if he’d split himself in two. There was Michael Wibberly the head of the army, who knew that the only way of keeping the world safe was to defeat the Dire Magnus. Then there was Michael Wibberly the thirteen-year-old boy, who’d do anything to save his sisters and who felt death and disaster breathing down their necks.

His hand rested on the shape of the Chronicle in his bag, and he wondered how much of the magic was in him. How long did they have?

With effort, he pulled his mind back to the present.

He glanced up to the outline of Captain Anton in the crow’s nest, the elf peering through the darkness for the first sight of Loris. All about Michael, men and dwarves were quietly checking their kits. He noted how, apart from the usual weapons and equipment, they had all been outfitted with an odd-looking metal apparatus fashioned by dwarf blacksmiths on the island. Michael had examined one of the objects, but could not figure out what it was or what it was intended to do. He’d asked King Robbie, who’d only smiled and said, “Let it be a surprise, lad. For you and for the enemy.” Then he added, “Besides, it may not even work.”

“Rabbit?”

Wilamena stepped toward him. She was wearing a dress the color of midnight and had a dagger at her waist attached to a silver belt; her hair, which shone faintly in the darkness, was in two thick braids down her back.

“What troubles you? Are you worried about Katherine? She will recover.”

“No. I know.”

“Then what is it?”

Michael thought of telling her what Magda von Klappen had told him about what the Books were doing to the world, about his and his sisters’ deaths being the only way anyone knew of that would fix the damage. Did she already know? No, he decided, she would’ve said something. Or written a poem about it.

“Nothing. I mean, we’ve got a plan. We’re all going to do our best and—”

Michael felt her hand, cool and soft, take his. He stopped rambling and looked into her eyes. As always happened, he was pulled into a private magical space that belonged solely to the two of them.

He spoke so only she could hear.

“I know this is necessary, that if we’re not at the portal when Emma comes through, the Dire Magnus will get the Reckoning, and life as we know it will end. But even with all these new soldiers, we could still fail, and…” He paused, feeling embarrassed by the chain mail and sword. He wished he was wearing his own clothes. “It’ll be my fault. Our fault. Mine and my sisters’. Because everyone here’s thinking we can defeat the Dire Magnus. I’m scared we’re just going to get them all killed.”

The elf princess put her finger under his chin and lifted his face till his eyes met hers again.

“This fight found us. What you and your sisters have done is to give them hope. That is magic in itself.”

“But…what if we lose?”

“Then we lose. There are things worth dying for. Friendship. Loyalty. Love. And if in fighting for those, this is the last stand of the elves, then so be it.”

Michael found himself struggling to hold back tears. “Thank you.”

She kissed his cheek. “Now come see what I’ve brought you.”

She led him down the deck to where a large object was covered with black cloth. She drew the fabric away, and at first Michael could make no sense of what he was seeing. It was made of leather, but he found it to be a leather of such softness and suppleness that he thought he was touching silk. Then he realized:

“It’s a saddle!”

“Indeed.”

“But we don’t have any horses!”

“Oh, it’s for something much larger than a horse.”

“You don’t mean—”

“There is no one else whom I trust to protect my Rabbit. We will fight this fight together.”

She kissed him again, not his cheek this time, and Michael felt a warmth spreading through his body and sensed he was on the verge of saying something extremely embarrassing when a sound as quiet as the footfall of a cat made them turn.

Captain Anton had leapt down to the deck.

He said, “Something is coming.”

—

Carrying the lantern from her tent, Kate made her way to the beach where she’d killed the Imp. The island was emptying out, the families from Loris almost completely loaded onto the boats. Hugo Algernon had already disappeared, saying he had a matter to see to. “No doubt a fool’s errand, but as Pym is not here to do it, I suppose I have to.” He’d told her to get on one of the boats transporting the refugees, and she’d promised she would.

But she had something to do first.

She’d discovered when she’d woken that her jacket had been taken from her. Apparently, it had been covered in Imp blood and burned. That was fine. But her mother’s locket was also missing. Kate surmised that the chain must’ve been broken when the Imp had fallen on her. So now she had gone back to the beach alone, in the dark, to find it.

The beach was empty, and the tide had come in a long way. Kate searched carefully, holding the lantern down low, and she found the locket along the water’s edge, nestled among the stones. The chain had indeed been broken, but both locket and chain were still there, and Kate lifted them with trembling fingers. She had lost the locket once before, in New York, and Rafe had recovered it and the chain and returned them to her.

She slid the locket and chain into her pocket.

She said, “You’re there, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

She turned. Rafe stood just behind her. The lantern at her side lit only part of his face; his eyes remained in darkness. She tried to ignore the pounding of her heart.

“You think Michael and the others have a chance?”

He shrugged. “I guess we’ll see.”

“I had that dream again.”

“What dream?”

“When I was in the church. In New York. You were there.”

“Did I say anything?”

“No.”

“Sometimes a dream is just a dream.”

Kate found herself wishing she’d been able to talk to Michael before he’d left with the army. She would’ve finally told him about Rafe appearing to her. She would’ve apologized for keeping it secret and would have asked him to forgive her.

She said, “Can we stop pretending?”

For a moment, nothing happened. Then he smiled.

“When did you figure it out?”

And that smile, the confirmation it held, was like a hammer blow. She swallowed and managed to speak.

“Just today. I think…I’ve known for a while, but I didn’t want to.”

She dropped her gaze to the stones at her feet. She couldn’t look at him, for to look at him was to see Rafe, and he wasn’t Rafe. Rafe was dead. He had died a hundred years ago, the night he had sacrificed himself so that she could live. The thing next to her was the monster that had killed him. That was what she had to remember.

“Why did you do it? Just to torture me?”

He actually managed to sound hurt. “Of course not.”

“So from the beginning, that first time in the Garden, that was…”

“It was me, yes.”

“But why?! Why appear to me at all?! Why trick me?!”

It was taking all of Kate’s will and strength to hold herself together.

“Because I needed you at the fortress, you and your brother. I already had Emma. And if I’d succeeded in bonding her to the Reckoning, I could’ve fulfilled the prophecy and my quest then and there.”

“But you didn’t! Michael pulled her spirit back, and Dr. Pym, he—”

“Sacrificed himself. It just made things more difficult. And anyway, I’d planned for the chance my first attempt might fail.”

“What do you mean?” She glanced up at him and had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. She felt as if she was being ripped in two. She wanted to run to him, hold him. And at the same time, she wanted to kill him. Why did he have to look like Rafe? Why couldn’t he look like the murderer he was?!

“It’s difficult, I know.” He sounded almost sympathetic. “You’ll get used to it.”

She turned away, her arms tight across her chest, staring across the black water.

“To answer your question: I hadn’t waited thousands of years to risk everything on a single chance. I knew there was a possibility you three might escape. And I knew if you did, it would be by using the Atlas. So I took precautions. When I came to you in the Garden on Loris, I placed the image of the giants’ land in your mind. I made it so it would be the first thing the Atlas seized on when you tried to escape. From there, I hardly had to do anything. The three of you found the giants’ city and the Countess all by yourself. You brought her back to life—as I knew you would—and discovered where the book was hidden.”

“How long have you known where it was?”

“A thousand years or so.”

“I don’t—You couldn’t have planned it all!”

“It really wasn’t that hard. And now we’re almost done.” Then he said, “Come to me.”

“No.”

She felt him step closer, so close he could whisper in her ear.

“You believed I was Rafe because you wanted to believe. I am still him. But so much more. I told your sister, the only fight you’ll never win is the one against your own nature. I stopped fighting that battle long ago. I’m who I was always meant to be. A new world is about to be born, Kate. I want you there with me.”

Kate could feel the magic of the Atlas stirring within her. She could call it up, command it to take her somewhere, anywhere. So what if she wasn’t able to control it like she used to, so what if it hurt her. She would be far away from him.

But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

You’re weak, she told herself. You’re weak and an idiot. And you betrayed the two people you love most in the world.

“Kate…”

She shook her head.

“Then I’m sorry about this.”

She was still staring across the water when she heard the roaring, and then the screams. She didn’t look at him; she just dropped the lantern and ran.

In no time, she was back on top of the cliff, and could see down to the harbor and beyond, to where the families from Loris were escaping, a jagged line of boats stretched across the water.

A pair of waterspouts, giant whirling funnels of wind and water, had sprung up and were tearing toward the line of boats. Kate saw the tip of the first funnel cleave its way through a boat carrying more than thirty people. She heard wood splinter and break, she heard screaming—

“Stop it! Stop it!”

“It’s your choice, Kate.” He was standing beside her. “Just say the words.”

Kate saw the second waterspout heading toward a boat carrying dozens of families. Despite the distance and the darkness, she could see the children aboard; she could hear their terrified voices.

“Yes! Fine! Whatever you want!”

Instantly, the winds died, and the waterspouts sank into the sea. Kate stared at the bay, at the other ships moving to rescue those who had been thrown from the boats, the water now littered with broken bits of wood and the luggage of the refugees, with people.

“But…how am I supposed to get to you? I can’t control the Atlas! It—”

He made a calming noise. “It’s okay. I can help.”

She felt the tingle as he reached up to touch her temple, just as he had in the Garden, days before. He said, “It’s almost over. Now. Come to me.”