Penult (7 page)

“
I’m not sure how I can
help. I haven’t made the crossing in months. I’m not even sure I’m
capable anymore.” I glanced over at Karla, who was still holding
onto that knife. “Did you hear anything about a war?”

“
I … I haven’t been
either,” she said. “Not for weeks. Not since I came back from
Wales.”

I looked at Wendell. “See? Neither of
us are any use to you guys.”

Wendell grinned. “Oh? Too happy? Well,
we can change that fast. Lots of ways to change that big
time.”

“
Are you threatening
us?”

“
Not necessarily. I’m
betting you can find a way to get over there without our help. They
tell me there are ways to summon them, without having to screw up
your head. Zhang calls it the power of negative
thinking.”

“
Surfing,” said Karla,
looking at me.

“
Whatever.” Wendell
shrugged. “These … roots, once you’ve been visited, they never go
away. You might not feel them, but they’re there, lurking, waiting
for your life to take a tumble. But the point is, there are ways of
shaping your thoughts to fool the damn things. There are always to
work the system. So don’t tell me you’re locked out.”

“
What if I don’t want to
go?”

Wendell’s face went taut. “That’s not
an option. Zhang is expecting to hear from you.” A smile crept back
into his features. “Listen. There’s no rush. I’m only asking that
you try to make it over there when you can, and when you do, go see
Zhang’s people. They’re expecting you. And no worries, they’ve got
an alliance thing going on with the Dusters so it’s not like you’ll
be going against your buds.”

“
An alliance?
Really?”

Wendell frowned. “Yeah. They were that
desperate. I tell you, this whole thing has been bad for business.
Demand for Facilitations has gone way down. A lot of Hemisouls are
figuring they’ll give life another chance.”

“
Do you blame
them?”

“
Shit, no. I’d be a
hypocrite if I did. I’m just saying, business is slow.”

Karla had a weird expression on her
face. Wistful, but sad and lost. She was being so quiet. She looked
more disappointed than scared. But was she looking at me like
that?

“
Make an effort,” said
Wendell. “That’s all I’m asking. And when you do, go see Zhang.” He
gathered together the pile of brochures he had been perusing.
“Well, folks, that’s pretty much it. Just try not to dilly-dally
too much. Otherwise, we … uh … we might have to grease the
skids.”

“
What do you
mean?”

He looked uncomfortable. “Just that,
we have ways of … uh … altering your mood, so to speak.
Facilitating a transition, in fancy terms. I don’t mean in a
permanent way. Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that. Just …
apply yourself. Go see Zhang as soon as you can. The gates of
Frelsi are open to you. They’ll be expecting you.”

He rose from the table, crumpled the
brochures and tossed them in a trash bin along the wall.

“
So that’s all for today,
folks. Just wanted to pass the word. I won’t be coming back unless
I have to. Oh, and Karla. So sorry about your cousin. It was an
honest mistake. You guys look so much alike. But she’ll be fine.
She’s just a little bruised.”

“
You guys were the ones
chasing Karla? But why? You knew where to find me.”

“
Thought it might be nice
to have some leverage when you got out. So we thought. But that
girl’s a slippery little thing. She’s got mad skills in evasion and
misdirection.” But no worries. Go see Zhang and we’ll leave you
lovebirds alone. Later gators.”

He strode off the patio and struck out
across the meadows heading towards the hills.

***

We sat at the table and watched
Wendell disappear into a speck in the distance before disappearing
behind fold in the rumpled fields of green. I was relieved that he
said nothing about the black card. I had half expected him to ask
for it back.

“
Where is he going?” said
Karla.

“
Who knows? Maybe he’s got
a helicopter parked out there.” I reached over and squeezed her
hand. “Feel better now? Now that we know who was following
you?”

“
I do,” said Karla. “Now it
all makes sense to me. They just want our … well …
your
… help.”

“
Yeah, well. Too bad
they’re not gonna get it.”

“
What do you
mean?”

“
I mean I’m not going back
to the Liminality. Why should I?”

“
Our friends are there.
They may be in danger.”

“
Let them come back here,
then. They don’t need to stick around. Why put themselves at
risk?”

“
Some of us don’t have a
choice in the matter.”

“
But … all I’m saying is
that they can fade back temporarily. Wait for any trouble over
there to blow over. And then go back, if they want.”

“
We don’t know what’s
happening over there. And that’s easier said than done … for
some.”

“
What happens there is none
of our business. Why should we worry about the afterlife? We’re not
even dead? I mean, let’s get on with life … with
living.”

“
They won’t leave us alone
till you go see Master Zhang.”

“
Who is this guy? Do you
know him?”

“
He used to live in the
Burg. In the early days, before Grandpapa lost his mind. He’s a
good Weaver. One of the best.”

“
Honestly, what can they do
to me if I can’t go back? I mean, is it my fault that I’m
optimistic for a change?”

A policeman stepped out of the lobby
and looked around the patio, nodding to me when I glanced at
him.

Karla looked troubled. “Let’s go back
to the room. I need to talk to you … someplace quiet and …
private.”

“
What about
dinner?”

“
First we need to
talk.”

***

The bed was made and everything in the
room had already been tidied up while we had been out. Karla sat on
the bed and motioned for me to sit on the little armchair across
from her. Her eyes were flitting all over the place.

“
Are you okay? What’s
up?”

She looked straight into my eyes, her
gaze unwavering for a change. I could see myself reflected in the
black mirrors of her pupils.

“
I’m done here. I don’t
want to live.”

Those words should not have surprised
me. Every soul who had ever been to the Liminality had harbored
suicidal thoughts. That’s how we all ended up there, by edging to
the brink of ending our lives. An honest death wish was the scent
that brought roots, those agents of the Reapers, out hunting after
our souls.

But I thought things would be
different now. We were together, with nothing to keep us apart. I
thought that would have at least made her hopeful, and given her a
reason to live, the way the havens of Root had once given us all a
second chance at existence. Was the prospect of a life with me not
enough to keep her going? I was stunned.

“
You don’t want to be …
with me?”

“
Of course I want to be
with you. I just said … I don’t want to live.”

“
I’m …
speechless.”

“
My dream James is to be
with you … forever … as Freesouls. I am thinking next time we are
in the Liminality together, we make our way to the glaciers. And
then, when we are back here … together. We … take each other’s
lives.”

“
What? Suicide? You want us
to make a fucking suicide pact?”

“
Or maybe … this man we
just meet … this Facilitator … maybe he can do it. What do you
think?”

“
Wendell? You want Wendell
to kill us? Are you crazy?”

“
Okay, then me. I’ll do it.
We’ll … do it together.”

This was insanity. Yet, there she was,
perfectly calm and serious. I detected no sadness in her now. There
was hope in her eyes. Wistfulness tinged with longing.

“
Karla. Nothing personal,
but I’m not ready for this kind of commitment. I’m not ready … to
die. I love you, but—”

“
But it’s not really a
death. We both know that.”

“
But we lose … all this. I
waved my arm towards the window and the storybook scenery that
spread in all directions. We lose … this world.”

“
There are pretty places in
Root. And other worlds … with bigger possibilities. Anything is
possible in the Liminality.”

“
But … it’s the same here.
Maybe it’s a little bit harder but … anything is possible here.
Anything.”

“
For you, maybe. Not for
me.”

Again, I didn’t know what to say. I
struggled to find something that would give her a reason to live,
if being with me wasn’t reason enough.

“
What about
Izzie?”

She frowned. “What about
her?”

“
Don’t you want to find
her?”

“
I told you, there may be
nothing to find. I think there is a good chance she might be
gone.”

“
We don’t know that for
sure.”

“
But what can we
do?”

“
I can help you look for
her.”

“
I have looked. Everywhere.
Brynmawr. Cardiff. London. Glasgow. And besides … you were
deported. They won’t let you in.”

“
No problem. I’ve got a
fake passport.”

Her eyes softened. A slight tremor
came over her. I could see that I had dented her armor. She had
lost some of her conviction.

“
How about we go back to
Wales? Give it one more shot? And if we can’t find her, then we can
talk about … other options. Okay? How about it?”

Her eyes were weepy and her lips
trembled. I took her hands in mine. They were stone
cold.

“
Okay,” she said,
weakly.

Chapter 6:
London

It occurred to me that I should have
taken the opportunity to press Wendell regarding Isobel’s
whereabouts. If his people had been keeping tabs on Karla, they
probably knew something about Izzie as well. Back when he first
tried to recruit me to become one of his Facilitators aka assassins
and I had showed reluctance, he had actually threatened her
safety.

Coercion came easy to guys like
Wendell. Blackmail was the favorite tool in his motivational tool
box.

But all that was water under the
bridge. Nothing to be done now but to go and search for Izzie on
our own.

I rummaged through the folio I had
taken from the Rutland safe deposit box, selecting a Canadian
passport with a recent picture of me that I didn’t remember posing
for. The name next to the picture was David M. Rooney. There you
go. No longer was I blacklisted with UK immigration. It was going
to be hard getting used to Karla calling me Dave.

We went back down to the restaurant
and had a real dinner, and afterwards spent another night enjoying
each other’s bodies. Karla sure didn’t act like a girl who wanted
to die, not that we couldn’t keep on making love on the other
side.

Our pillow talk that night dared not
broach the topic of death wishes or suicide pacts. Maybe she sensed
that I didn’t want to hear about it. We spoke only of logistics.
Where we would go first. How we would get there.

In the morning, we packed our few
belongings, grabbed a quick breakfast and made our way down to the
bus stop. I wish we had a few more days to stick around the
Dolomites, because I liked it here. I would have liked a chance to
explore the place.

I hoped we could come back here again
someday, preferably with Karla in a better frame of mind. The bus
careened down the switchbacks to the lowlands and Bolzano where we
caught a train to Milan, and then a budget flight to London City
Airport.

The black card went through without a
hitch and my fake passport worked like a charm. We breezed through
customs, this time with no strange blonde ladies to accost
me.

It was time to draw from my box of
tricks again, this time the key I had found in that old lady’s safe
deposit box in Rutland. I called the number on the tag and listened
to a recorded message on the other end: ‘1137 De Vere Gardens,
Kensington.’ I Googled it, and found it was just off of Hyde Park,
in what had to be an extremely ritzy neighborhood given its
proximity to Kensington Palace.

Karla was leery about going there but
I insisted we check it out. When we arrived, we found a dense block
of nicely kept apartment buildings. Number 1137 was a green metal
door in a wall of beige and brown stone, the number in bronze gone
green with verdigris.

We unlocked the door went up the
stairs to find a fully furnished flat with a well-stocked fridge
and pantry. It looked like someone lived there, apart from the fact
that there was not a speck of trash in the bins, and the end of the
toilet paper was folded into points like they do in nice
hotels.