The Clock Winked (The Sagittan Chronicles Book 2) (18 page)

“Hello, boys,” John said. “You’re here late.”

“What are you doing here?” Auvek asked as Salve exclaimed,
“Boy are we glad to see you!”

“I could ask you the same question,” John replied.

“Are they still out there?” Salve asked.
“The
men with black masks?”

John looked back at Quin. Quin gave a sharp nod and headed
back towards the Door.

“Don’t know.” John shrugged. “We came through the Door, not
through the shop.”

Auvek frowned. “Can you do that? Come through the Door?”

“No. No, it’s impossible and don’t try it.” John leaned
forward. “What are you reading? Ah yes, Laertes Misanthrop. Thrilling writer,
isn’t he? That’s about how far I got when I tried to read it, too.
First page.
So how did you end up here so late?” John asked
Salve.

“Um, I may have followed Rathead. And he may have sent thugs
to kill me.” Salve shrugged.

John shook his head. “You followed him?
Really?
Seriously, you’re an idiot.”

“We tried to call you,” Salve said, looking at Auvek. “But
his phone didn’t work.”

John raised an eyebrow and pointed to a square machine with
a circular dial on it. “Did you try that?”

“What is it?” Salve asked.

“How old are you two?” John threw his hands into the air in a
gesture of exasperation. “It’s a rotary phone! Oliphant the eighteenth hooked
it up—it’s the only thing you can use in an extra-dimensional space!”

“Oh,” Salve said.

Auvek poked it. “Well, I’ve heard of one,” he said, “but I
didn’t recognize it. At least you’re here. Guess we got lucky.”

“That’s double lucky for me,” Salve exclaimed.
“Once for escaping Rathead, and once for you showing up.”

“Speaking of Rathead,” Auvek said, looking at Salve. “What
was that thing you were going to tell me? That you mentioned earlier?”

“Oh right!” Salve nodded. “When I followed Rathead, I heard
him say that they had to kidnap the monkey. Obviously it could be any monkey,
but I thought maybe he meant…” he trailed off, glancing nervously at John.

“He knows,” Auvek said. “I guess we better go check on
Simon.”

Quin re-entered the room. “They’re gone.
Broken
windows.
Wet.
Messy.
But you can come out.”

“Leave that here,” John said, pointing to the book on the
table.

“I remember,” Auvek said, scowling. “You gave me a lecture
last time.”

The front room of the shop was a mess. Glass covered the
floor. A giant bookcase had been pushed over and books lay everywhere, some
with covers ripped off or pages removed, others with their pages
helter-skelter, and the rest in piles. The cash register lay on the floor in
pieces, with change dotting the wooden floor underneath. The little bell lay on
the floor, sadly crushed as if beneath a large boot.

“Where’s Simon?” Auvek peered over the counter. He kicked at
a few piles of books. “Simon!” he yelled, walking towards the back room. No
monkey came swinging across the bookshelves. “They took Simon. Salve, you were
right! What do we do?” He turned to look at John.

“That’s not good at all,” John said.
“Especially
if it was Rathead.”

“It was.” Quin pointed at the still intact glass door. Two
blue streaks of paint had been smeared across the glass to form an ‘x’.

“But why?”
Auvek asked. He walked
behind the desk; the article still appeared on his computer screen. “When I
woke up,” he said, “Simon was in recharge mode sitting on the counter right
over me, as if he had been about to say something when he went to sleep. In his
hand he had a piece of paper which said ‘Olaf Zebigular.’” Auvek gestured to
the screen. “When I searched for it, this appeared.”

John came around behind the desk and began to skim the
article over Auvek’s shoulder.

“Fascinating,” he murmured. “I wonder...”

Everyone sat silently as John skimmed the article faster
than Auvek could have imagined possible.

“It says,” John said, standing upright, “that Olaf Zebigular
built the ladder that rose from the middle of the Clock of Legend. It also says
that he built it with a bend in the middle, but that no one knew why. And then
it explains that the reason no one has examined this question is because the
more important question is: why build the ladder at all?”

“Er, that’s not what the article I was reading talked
about,” Auvek said.

“Well, the beginning tells the story of Romis and Remilio.
But after that it says more important things,” John replied.
“About
the ladder.”

“Why is that important?” Auvek asked.

John looked at Auvek for a moment. “For reasons I know and
you don’t. Olaf Zebigular—let’s just say, you won’t find anything about him on
a regular bookshelf. But,” John raised one finger, “you might find one in your
secret library.” John gave an excited wiggle and darted from behind the counter
and towards the back room. “I’ll be back!” he yelled and disappeared.

“He seems rather excitable,” Salve noted. “Shouldn’t we call
the police?”

“I will.” Quin stated. He touched his ear. “Jake.
Robbery at William Oliphant’s.
Wait twenty minutes, please.”
He was silent for a moment.
“Favour.
Done.
Thanks.”

“They’re on their way?” Auvek asked.

“Will be in twenty minutes,” Quin replied.

“Why in twenty?” Auvek frowned. “They need to come now! My
bookshop got attacked! And Simon is missing!”

Quin crossed his arms. “John and I were never here,” he
said.
“Legal stuff that doesn’t concern you.
You’ll
get the money to clean it up.”

John darted back into the room with a scroll clutched in one
hand.
“Didn’t find anything.
We should head back to
Pete’s. Need to talk to Canderick. You two should come.” He pointed at Auvek
and Salve and turned towards the back room. “You can’t very well tell the
police about Simon after all.”

“The door is over there,” Auvek said, gesturing toward the
broken door.

“Just follow John,” Quin said. “And pretend you never saw
anything.”

“Put your hand on my shoulder,” John ordered as he poised in
front of the Door. “Then Salve’s on Auvek’s
shoulder,
and Quin... well, you can do whatever you want.”

When all had their hands placed on each other’s shoulders,
John stepped into the Door. The room melted around them, but when the colours
dripped into place, like paint pouring down the walls of Auvek’s eyes, they
were not standing in the secret library of the first William Oliphant, but on a
bridge with a red river flowing beneath it, and fields of tall grass blowing in
the wind. A lonesome, wooden house sat at the top of a hill, and a flock of
black birds cawed eerily in the sky.

“Where are we?” Auvek asked over the sound of Salve
screeching the words “Are we going to die?” repeatedly.

“This is a carefully guarded secret,” John replied, “and you
were never here, and have no idea that this exists. Turn around, hand on Quin’s
shoulder.”

The train turned around and Quin pulled them through again;
this time, the colours stacked up, like bricks building a warm living room,
with a steady fire burning in the fireplace. Lamps filled every corner of the
room, and clocks of all shapes and sizes ticked in unison.

“So many clocks,” Auvek said.

“You’re back!” Pete stood in the doorway.

“Pete, Auvek, Salve,” John introduced quickly. “I need to
talk to Canderick.”

“Sure,” Pete replied. “You two can make yourself
comfortable.”

John, Quin, and Pete disappeared back through the Door.

“What just happened?” asked Salve, throwing himself into a
stuffed chair and holding on tightly, as if he expected it to try to buck him
off.

“We travelled through Doors.” Auvek rubbed his chin with his
hands. “And we did so in a way that seems completely impossible. I will have to
do some research.”

“There was a rumor a couple of years back,” Salve suggested,
“that said it was possible to go anywhere in the universe by stepping through a
Door. But that was disproved. The ICCC put out a whole flier about the
incident.”

“ICCC?”

“Interplanetary Cooperation and Creation
Committee.
They monitor all interplanetary communication and they
supposedly build planets. They also, I guess, deal with all Door traffic.”

“Yeah,” Auvek said. “I know who they are. I just never heard
it called ICCC before. We always called them the Globe People or something.”

“Yeah,” Salve grinned. “Way easier to say. But I guess there
are some other offices in the Globe, besides ICCC ones. Semantics, what can I
say?”

“Gone?” John’s voice cut into their conversation. “Your
guard was out cold. Canderick was not strong enough to do that.”

John, Pete, and Quin stepped back into the room, and each
sank into a different chair.

“He could have,” Quin said. “We didn’t check him for
weapons.”

“Well,” John sighed, “I guess there’s nothing we can do
about it. I hope he gets lost in the tunnel maze.”

“John!” Pete scolded.

“Sorry.”

“Anyway, I have news,” Pete said. “My old friend Llewellyn
called right before you arrived. Apparently her niece is missing.”

“Why did she call you?” John asked.

“Well, she is afraid that her niece was kidnapped by someone
from the Woerta Clan. She didn’t want to go to the police.”

John sat upright in his chair. “Kidnapped? Why? What’s her
name?”

“This girl is the next in line to set back the Clock. At
least, I think that’s what she said. Llewellyn was quite distraught when I
spoke with her. Everything was a bit garbled. Her niece’s name is Bronwyn.”

Salve’s face turned pale. “Bronwyn,” he whispered.

Auvek leaped out of his seat. “They took Bronwyn? We have to
save her! Where is she?”

*****

Bronwyn sat with her feet propped up in a very comfortable
chair. A bowl of grapes sat tantalizingly next to her left elbow, and susurrus
steam rose from the mug of very hot chocolate in her right hand. The man with
blue stripes on his face introduced himself.

“I am Rathead,” he said. “And sorry I am that you sit here,
but one of my men is ambitious and cautious much. You appeared to be in wrong
place at time when you must not be. You may go as soon as we have someone to
drive you back. Is there anything you have
need
?”

“No,” Bronwyn replied. She tried not to look at him. He was
the same man that she had seen outside the bookstore. “This is fine. Thank
you.”

“So, tell, my dear,” Rathead continued. “What is it that you
know this monkey, Simon?”

“He’s from Oliphant’s bookstore,” Bronwyn replied. She
thought for a moment. “I just go there a lot.”

“This monkey is a close-guarded secret, yes? So my men
speak.” Rathead leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “And still you
know?”

“Once Auvek let me in when it was closed,” Bronwyn replied.
“And I saw him by accident. That’s all.”

“I see. Then you will not mind if we take him to speak with
this monkey in private.” He smiled, showing his teeth. They had points.

Bronwyn shrugged. “I don’t own him. Why don’t you ask him?”

“Simon,” Rathead said obligingly. “I would much appreciate
if you come this way to discuss many things.”

Simon nodded. “If you wish, sir, I don’t mind, but I am
concerned for Bronwyn. She must be returned safely.”

“My word you have of this,” Rathead replied. “Harm not shall
come to her.”

Simon scooted down the arm of the chair.

CRASH.
Shouting and cursing could
be heard coming from the hallway.

“Just a moment,” Rathead said. He peeked out the door and
then turned back to Simon and Bronwyn. “This may take little while.” The door
slammed closed behind him.

Bronwyn looked at Simon. “Is he a bad guy?”

Simon turned his neck towards Bronwyn. “Yes, I believe he
is.”

“Why do they want you?”

“They probably want my memory drive,” Simon said, a little
sadly. “This is not the first time I’ve been stolen.”

“What happened? Were you at the shop?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t remember. I was in recharge mode
and completely oblivious to my surroundings. This is my biggest weakness.”
Simon shook his head. “However, while Mr. Rathead is otherwise occupied, we
should look at your disk, since I may not be able to read it for you later.”

“Okay,” she replied.

Simon produced the disk and held it between two fingers. His
eyes closed, and the lids began to glow, emanating a projection—little green lines
swirled around each other in a sphere. Then, they took shape of a man and a
woman sitting on a couch. The woman began to speak.

“Bronwyn,” she said. “It’s me, your mother.”

Bronwyn began to cry silently.

“Shall I pause?” Simon asked.

Bronwyn shook her head rapidly, clutching her hands so
tightly that her knuckles began to turn white.

“I need you to do something for me. If your aunt has given
you this disk, it means that Aderick is dead and his task has not been
completed.”

“
If
Llewellyn gives her the disk at all,” the man
interjected. “That bitch will probably keep our little girl locked in her room
for two hundred years!”

“Dwight, hush!” Bronwyn’s mother slapped the back of his
hand lightly. “This is important!”

Bronwyn laughed through her tears.

“We need you to reset the Clock, dear. You should know all
about it by this time. Llewellyn has all the books and papers you need. There
are a few secrets, though, which aren’t written anywhere. That’s what we need
to tell you.”

“You’re a Keeper, love,” Dwight said. “That means you were
born from a Woertan and Lasta both. Just remember, Lasta are better.”