Little Dumpling’s screams pierced my heart. Looking toward the sphere where Jacob’s half-uncle was clutching the baby, I saw that both of them had begun to vibrate!
Because the drama at the Silver Slicer had completely captured the attention of the gathered monsters, we abandoned stealth and raced to the stalagmites.
My grandfather was the first to spot us. His eyes widened, but he did no more than turn his head to the side and quietly inform Mrs. McSweeney we were there. Soon all four of our friends were aware of us.
As the second chime sounded, we darted behind the imprisoning stalagmites and began to slice at the ropes binding our allies. Jacob worked on freeing Keegel Farzym. Toozle was attempting to release Teelamun. I was torn between my grandfather and Mrs. McSweeney, but figured that with her magic Mrs. McSweeney might be more use in the coming fight. If only there were one more of us so we could free them both at the same time! Then Luna leaped up. Sinking her claws into the rope that held her mistress, she began gnawing at the knots.
The clock chimed again, a long, slow, sonorous sound.
I went to work on my grandfather’s bonds, glancing around the stalagmite as I did.
LD was shaking so fast, he was little more than a blur.
On the next chime the silver blade began to swing. Back and forth it went, swish, swish, dropping slowly toward the tapestry.
It hit the fabric, and the threads began to part. As the blade descended, the pincers on each side of the tapestry plucked at the severed pieces of weft. Strand by strand the yarn was pulled outward, leaving a six-inch-wide patch of warp threads at the tapestry’s center. They looked like the strings of a giant harp.
The nature of the world began to change. Things became less clear, less focused. Cutting the ropes that held our friends was made harder by the fact that knives and rope alike were becoming … mushy.
“It is as we feared,” murmured Keegel Farzym.
With a burst of horror, I realized what he meant: Always October was starting to dissolve!
The fear gave me new strength. I slashed downward with the knife, then felt a wave of relief as the ropes parted. With a small cry of triumph my grandfather pulled his arms free. At the same time I heard a grunt of satisfaction from Keegel Farzym as he, too, pulled away from the stalagmite where he had been bound.
A moment later Teelamun was free, then Mrs. McSweeney.
As the seventh chime sounded, my grandfather darted forward to snatch up his pickax.
And the Silver Blade continued to swing, back and forth, back and forth, parting one by one the threads that bound the worlds together and, in doing so, bound Always October to existence … and Humana to sanity.
Keegel Farzym knelt before us and said softly, “Our only hope is to stop that clock. When I give the word, we attack. Whoever can fight through to the clock, do your best to destroy it.”
Tense, grim, we all nodded. The High Poet stood, then with a bellow of “Release Dumpling!” raced forward. Clutching my knife, I screamed and followed close behind him.
When I reached the line of monsters, I suddenly realized that my small size compared to them was an advantage. They were so focused on the Silver Slicer they didn’t even notice me as I slipped between two of them. Then one monster—a hairy beast with a face like a plate full of death—did spot me. He snatched me up, and I thought I was done for. Suddenly a huge blue arm wrapped around my captor’s throat.
“The clock!” roared Keegel Farzym as he freed me from the monster’s grip. “Get the clock!”
Grampa, Teelamun, and Mrs. McSweeney were working to clear a path toward the clock. Each fought in his or her own style. Grampa, shouting curses, swung his pickax in a big arc. Mrs. McSweeney had pulled a knitting needle from somewhere and was blasting away with it. Teelamun was like some avenging angel of beauty who had spent several decades learning martial arts. With quick kicks and devastating blows, she knocked aside monsters twice her height. Luna had become a hissing, scratching, clawing bundle of energy, leaping from monster to monster.
I spotted Jake to my right. He nodded and the two of us shot forward, dodging between furiously roaring monsters.
At first I feared they would tear us apart. To my surprise, they ignored us. Then I understood why: They had come to the horrified realization that Mazrak had been wrong. With Always October trembling between being and not-being, threatening to dissolve into nothingness, they were confused and terrified.
Jacob and I reached the clock and flung ourselves against it as it was chiming for the eleventh time.
It stood solid. We backed up for another run, and I saw that Toozle had joined us. No, not just Toozle—he had somehow found his other half! We threw ourselves against the clock. It wobbled. Both halves of Sploot Fah scrambled to the top of it. The combined weight of the two bodies overbalanced the clock. It fell backward, landing with a crash.
The blasted thing was still ticking!
As the twelfth chime sounded I leaped into the air, then landed on the clock’s face. My feet smashed against the glass. It shattered, and I sank into the clock. The hands stuck up between my ankles, which were bleeding with cuts from the broken glass.
We had stopped the clock before the thirteenth chime. Would it make a difference … or were we too late?
I looked up, and gasped. The Silver Slicer had moved nearly halfway down the tapestry. The monsters were like shadows, crying out in fear as they lost substance. Mazrak was roaring, but I couldn’t tell if it was because we had stopped him or because he finally realized he had been wrong and had doomed his world.
He was in worse shape than the other monsters; I could see right through him, as if he were a ghost. He was no longer holding LD, who was on the cave floor in front of him. Like Mazrak, the baby was looking frail and ghostlike.
Bellowing with fury, Jacob ran to the sphere and thrust his hands into it. He tore it open, stepped inside, snatched up the baby.
Weeping, he carried LD back to where I stood.
The only ones not growing misty around the edges were Gnarly, Mrs. McSweeney, Jacob, and myself.
And Luna, of course.
No, there was one more: Toozle and his other half—were they Sploot Fah again yet?—weren’t dissolving either. Puzzling, but I had no time to think about it … too busy wondering what would happen if the world continued to dissolve.
Would we be left floating in nothingness?
Then I thought of one last, desperate strand of hope. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out Octavia’s silk, which I had put there after I’d unstrapped LD from Jacob’s back the last time.
“Give me the baby,” I said.
Jacob looked startled. “Why?”
I held up the silk. “You’re the son of a weaver,” I said. “Weave!”