Penult (9 page)

“
Cooperate!” she
hissed.

I let out my breath. “Well, I was
homeless for a while. Except, that wasn’t so bad. And there was
prison. And … I’m an orphan.”

Sophie’s expression brightened. “Dead
parents! How old were you when you lost them?”

“
It was only a few years
ago. But … I saw my mom in Frelsi. In the Sanctuary. But … she
didn’t recognize me.”

“
Of course not, dear. She’s
cleared. Why would she need to be bothered with the living world
when she had Frelsi? But unfortunately, now that you’ve seen her,
you understand that souls continue onward. You have glimpsed your
loved one in another existence. That’s not exactly the best fuel
for despair.”

“
What can I say? My head’s
in a good place right now. I mean, is that a crime?”

“
Surely, there must be
more. You must have had something truly horrifying happen to you?
Most people who have visited the Liminality do.”

Karla looked at me. “Papa.”

Sophie leaned forward, her face
expectant. “What’s this?”

“
I was kidnapped. Beaten …
and tortured. By Karla’s father.”

“
Now we’re getting
somewhere! Put yourself back in that place. Close your eyes. Empty
your mind of everything but that. Bask in the futility, the
hopelessness.”

I tucked my chin and clenched my eyes,
remembering the moldy dankness of that church basement, the pain,
the rats, the darkness. I sensed something begin to swirl just
beyond the range of my perception. Roots?

Karla took my hand in hers and broke
the spell. I was back in the coffee shop, my heart
aglow.

“
Karla, dear, you’re not
helping.”

“
Sorry!” She yanked her
hand back.

“
You see, burgeoning love
is a most powerful bane against hopelessness. It can make a young
man yearn for life even in the most desperate situations. I can see
that this is likely the root of your problem. Perhaps … a
separation is in order.”

I slammed my fist on the table. “No
fucking way. I just got out of prison! She just came back from the
dead.”

“
Now, now. It was just a
suggestion. Give a few weeks for the glow to fade and you might be
happy to have a little time for yourself. Happens to the happiest
of couples. Which makes me think we should strike while the iron is
hot. But then again, maybe we have enough to work with here. Reach
back James, and put yourself back in that basement. And this time,
Miss Karla, restrain yourself. No touching!”

So I closed my eyes again. Summoned
the rat going after my lunch. The footsteps coming down the
corridor, never knowing whether they were coming to beat me.
Linval’s screams. His groans. His ever weakening whimpers. And
finally, his silence. A tear dribbled down my cheek.

But I knew Karla sat beside me. She
didn’t have to touch my hand. I knew she was in reach. And her
presence made it all okay. I could handle the nastiest horrors of
life with her by my side.

“
Anything?” said
Sophie.

Nothing filled my senses but the smell
of coffee and spiced tea, tobacco, cloves, cool leather, the rumble
of the underground trains passing below us, reminiscent of
Reapers.

No roots announced their presence. The
Liminality kept its distance. I felt nothing.

And in a way, I was glad. Whatever
troubles the Frelsians were having, they had nothing to do with my
current life. My path through existence need not lead through Root.
There were other realms for souls to reside. I would find the right
place when the time came.

“
How about now?”

“
Nope. Nothing.”

“
Maybe
I
can go for him,” said
Karla.

“
Go where,
dear?”

“
To the Liminality, to see
Master Zhang.”

Sophie pursed her lips. “Well, I am
sure you can, love. No doubt you have vast reservoirs of angst to
tap. You may go wherever you like, dear, but this is all about
James.”

“
Why me?”

Sophie skipped a glance towards Karla.
“The boy has no clue, does he? Low self-esteem, perhaps? Renders
him completely unaware of the elephant in the room?”

“
Elephant?”

Sophie pursed her lips.

“
You James. You are the
elephant. You are why I rode the early train down this morning all
the way from Bristol. This is all about getting another master
Weaver to join our ranks in the Liminality. Because souls with the
ability to move … mountains … are few and far between. We can count
their number on … two hands. We need you … to stand against the
Cherubim. To save Frelsi.”

“
What if … I don’t want to
save Frelsi?”

Sophie glared. “It’s not just Frelsi.
I’m talking about every society and sub-culture on the surface of
the Liminality. All of them Penult aims to exterminate, or at least
drive back underground. These so-called angels. Self-appointed
overseers of the afterlife. Seraphim and Hashmallim and their
strange, poor minions the Cherubim. They just want the surface or
themselves, to drive us all back underground like cattle to be
processed for the Deeps.”

I tapped my watch. “We … uh … we have
a train to catch.”

Sophie sipped the last of her chai.
“So you do. A long train ride can provide an excellent environment
for executing transitions. Something about the rhythm of the rails.
Please, do try your best. It is vastly important that you see
Master Zhang as soon as possible. We would hate to resort to more
drastic measures.”

“
Drastic?”

“
I cannot stress enough the
urgency of seeing Master Zhang. The alliance awaits you.” Her eyes
narrowed into piggy little orbs. “You need to see him soon, love.
Time is running short.”

Chapter 7:
Scotland

As we pulled out of King’s Cross
Station, I sent Sturgie a text with our arrival time in Inverness.
Almost instantly a torrent of eager and excited messages set my
phone pinging like a pinball machine.

He was thrilled to hear from us,
couldn’t wait to see us. Yes, he was still going to college up
there, starting up his third year. He wanted to take us out for
seafood at his favorite pub across the River Ness. Afterwards, we
were welcome to crash at his flat, as long as we wanted.

I grinned at Karla as I showed her the
parade of texts.

“
He came to see me in
Brynmawr,” she said, smiling.

“
Oh? How are he and his
uncle Renfrew getting along these days?”

“
Pretty well. Sturgie is
actually thinking of coming back to the goat farm when he
graduates. He changed his major to business.”

I was getting spoiled by all the nice
hotels and expensive flats. The thought of sleeping on some college
kid’s floor didn’t thrill me. I could kick myself for not grabbing
more keys from that safe deposit box. Maybe we could sneak off
somewhere cozy after a couple of nights hanging out with Sturgie
and his mates.

I nodded out with my head propped on
Karla’s shoulder somewhere on the north side of London. No roots
came to visit. I have to admit I was being a bad boy and not
heeding Sophie’s advice to let myself be overtaken by negative
thoughts.

Why should I? I had worked hard to
achieve my positive frame of mind and I wasn’t quite ready to give
it up.

But there was something weird about my
dreams. Something fundamentally different. They were tangible. My
senses more completely engaged. I could feel things and smell
things. Even within the dream I was aware of this difference, but
my awareness did nothing to break the spell.

I did a lot of floating around kind of
like what I experienced through Billy. But also a lot of flitting
around between people’s heads, kind of like the way I experienced
the Singularity.

For a time, my consciousness clung to
a man walking down a city street. I had no idea what city or what
country. He was no one I recognized, just some random stranger, for
all I knew. He was walking along some waterfront near a church
carrying a thick coil of braided wire. Strange.

My eyes flicked open. The interior of
the train car was glaringly bright. Karla’s face was inches from
mine, her eyes pegged wide.

I squirmed up out of my slouch and
looked out the window at some rolling meadows, rocky hills,
boulders and sheep. “Where are we?”

“
Somewhere north of York,”
she said. “You slept a lot. Did you go? Did you see Master
Zhang?”

“
No. Did you?”

“
No.” She pouted. “What are
we going to do?”

“
We do what we can, when we
can, if we can. When was the last time you went back?”

“
When you were still in
jail. Around Easter.”

“
And? How was
everything?”

“
Fine,” she shrugged. “They
were worried about the newcomers arriving on the shore, but there
was no fighting. There were dragonflies everywhere.”

“
Whatever happened, must
have happened fast.”

“
I went down below … to the
tunnels. Looking for Izzie. There were so few pods, compared to how
it used to be. So many souls are coming to the surface. But … no
Izzie.”

“
Well, that’s good,
right?”

Karla’s face flushed. Her eyes
glistened. “I don’t know why she had to leave the farm. They would
have taken such good care of her. She should have waited for me. I
would have come for her.”

“
But she thought you were
dead.”

“
I
was
dead. But no matter. She should
have just stayed on the farm. Or in Brynmawr with those ladies. All
would have been fine.”

“
Maybe she found a
boyfriend.”

“
Please. She is only
fourteen.”

“
You’re positive she’s not
still in Wales?”

“
I went through every
corner of Cardiff. Retraced all her steps. She was helping out a
band. Punk band. Roadie, groupie, whatever you want to call her.
Living with them. Carrying their equipment. Singing, sometimes,
although she has a terrible voice. But she’s not there. She left
without even telling them, although she packed her
things.”

“
She packed? Well, that’s a
good sign. Means she wasn’t kidnapped, maybe.”

“
If she was coerced, it is
just as bad. Papa knows how to push her buttons.”

“
Don’t worry. She’s a tough
little cookie. The fact that she hasn’t shown up in Root is a good
sign, right?”

“
Maybe,” said Karla. “Maybe
not.”

***

We got to Edinburgh on time and had a
bit of a wait between trains. Finally, I finally got to see a bit
more of the wondrous city beyond the train station. It was crazy,
with all the castles and the different layers of streets and their
verticality. I had never seen anything like it.

Even though it was drizzling, Karla
plopped herself down on a wet bench and refused to budge. She was
in a bit of a funk. It took all the charm I could muster, which
isn’t much admittedly, to get her off her butt to go
shopping.

She needed some clothes badly to
replace some of the rags she was hanging onto. But she just
couldn’t get into it. All I got her to buy was a flannel shirt and
a pair of cheapo jeans from a tourist shop. She glared at my little
black card when I pulled it out, but said nothing.

I wasn’t crazy about going to
Inverness, either. Nothing against that town, just that some of the
most horrible days of my life were spent in Edmund’s church
basement.

Once I got her back on the train, a
pall fell across her face like a shadow. She sank deeper and deeper
into herself every mile closer to Inverness, accumulating layers
like so many coats of hard shellac, re-erecting defenses that she
had previously shed. This wasn’t surfing. This was
depression.

I tried not to take it too personal,
but I had to wonder what it said about our relationship when I
practically floated through the world in her presence, but she
acted like she was wearing a hundred pounds of lead weights? Did
she not want to be with me? Did I not matter as much to
her?

Of course, she had some extra baggage
to weight her down. Isobel meant a lot to her. She was her only
sibling, her sole confidante through some enormously difficult
times. Karla had been pretty much Izzie’s fill-in mom during her
growing up years. She couldn’t help but feel responsible for
whatever had happened to her.

She was a prime candidate for a
visitation. I could almost feel the roots come swirling around her
soul. I watched her for the change. When her eyes stopped twitching
and her body went limp, I took her hand and sighed.

“
Say hi for me.”

I propped my forehead against the
window and watched the world go by. On the outskirts of Edinburgh,
I could have sworn I saw one of those automated changeable
billboards display a giant “Zhang?” in big red letters over a field
of chartreuse before the rollers engaged and transformed back into
a Guinness ad. Had I really seen what I thought I saw, or was my
mind playing tricks?