Hinges creaked just in front of her as Kiel opened her cell. “Ready? We can stay longer if you’d prefer, but the stench is starting to get to me.”
“Where are we going, then?” she said, not moving. “You don’t have your magic left. I don’t have any books. Even when we had both, the Magister completely destroyed us. Now we don’t even have a chance.”
Kiel sighed, and she heard him sit down beside her. “I’m going to make a suggestion that you’re not going to want to hear.”
“And what’s that?” she said, barely even caring.
“You’re supposedly half from this world, and half from mine, right?”
“Half-fictional.”
“I really don’t like that word. But fine. If you’re half-fictional, stop acting so realistic all the time and embrace it! Be more fictional, Bethany.”
Bethany froze in place, then began to laugh, harder and harder, until she laughed herself into a coughing fit. “Be more fictional?” she shouted. “That’s your advice? When the Magister is about to toss all of humanity into stories that will probably kill them, and release every fictional character ever out into our world? Be more fictional?”
“Think about it. All this time you’ve been reacting to admittedly crazy things as they come. That’s no way to win, Bethany. Why not try getting ahead of the craziness with a little nuttiness yourself? Embrace the impossible! Find the magic within! BE MORE FICTIONAL.”
“Get ahead of the craziness?” she shouted at him. “How?! This is all my fault. That’s why I’m dealing with it as it comes! I can’t go back and not make the mistakes I’ve made, so I’m trying to fix them.”
“And you’re constantly failing, because you can’t fix the past. It took me a year—or six books, I guess—to realize that. It’s about time you did too if we’re going to have any chance here.”
“So, what, I should stop thinking anything through and just do whatever comes to me at the time? How about I let all the fictional characters out first, so the Magister can’t? Or shove people into books to save them?”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s a horrible idea! It’s the exact opposite of what we’re trying to do! Putting people into books—”
And then she stopped.
“Uh-oh,” Kiel said, tapping her on the shoulder. “Did I break your mind?”
“Shut up,” she said, a plan forming in her head. “You might not be entirely one hundred percent wrong here. Maybe there’s something to be said for taking a few stupid risks.”
“A few stupid risks is my middle name. It’s a family name, from my father’s uncle.”
“We have to find the Magister,” Bethany said, ignoring Kiel as she jumped to her feet. “But first I need to find where he’s keeping all the books he took from Jonathan Porterhouse’s library.”
“That’s it!” Kiel shouted. “Are you going to release some crazy monster to attack him? Honestly, that’s what I’d do. Something huge, toothy, and immune to magic. Seems like the smart thing to do, given—”
“No, and stop talking. But I do have a specific kind of book in mind, so I might be a while. And that means I need you to do something for me.”
“I am at your command, of course,” Kiel told her. “Though remember, I’ve got no magic, so maybe something nice, easy, and safe.”
She frowned. “I need you to go distract all the fictional monsters outside and make them chase you back in here. Round them all up and bring them to me.”
“Even better.” And despite the dark, Bethany knew Kiel was grinning.
CHAPTER 36
This won’t be easy,” Charm told Owen, her hands flying over holographic maps in the middle of her spaceship. “First, we’ll need a way to teleport down to Quanterium, breaking through the planet’s shield system that blocks teleportation rays, which they put up after we found the Fourth Key.”
“I’m okay not getting there right away,” Owen said, watching the stars fly past out the window.
“Second, we’ll need to make our way through Quanterium to the Presidential Palace, through Science Soldiers from a million different dimensions. And we’ll be entirely on our own, since anyone who might be willing to overlook the fact that we’re criminals is probably on the Nalwork anyway. Which brings up another issue: With everyone on the Nalwork, we’ll stand out just by walking around, no matter what our disguise.”
“Well, my spell book was destroyed, so I don’t have any magic to disguise us anyway,” Owen pointed out.
“Which takes away any chance of surprise that we had,” Charm said with a frown. “Still, you invade a science planet with the magic you have, not the magic you want. Once we reach the Presidential Palace, we’ll need to make our way down to the very bottom floor, where the Vault of Containment is hidden.”
“Are we sure that this mythical, magical weapon actually does anything?”
“All magical weapons are mythical. And no.”
Owen sighed. “I see what you’re doing. You’re focusing on how we’re going to die so you don’t jinx us, like back at the First Magician’s cave!”
She shrugged. “If that helps you.”
Ugh. Despite Charm’s estimation of their odds, Owen was actually pretty sure they’d make it to the vault. Dr. Verity had always enjoyed a dramatic confrontation, and what would be worse than letting Owen and Charm get right to the vault door before stopping them? That had to be the spot where the final confrontation would take place, and Owen would . . . He’d have to give up his . . .
Anyway.
Alphonse moved around on his shoulder, the cat’s wings rubbing up against his head. Owen absently scratched Alphonse’s neck, and the cat purred. “Charm, if things go badly down there . . .”
“I’m sure they will,” Charm said without looking up.
“Because of your positive attitude, right. But if something happens to me, I want you to take . . . what you need and finish the job. Okay?”
She turned around and gave him a curious look. “No.”
Owen’s eyebrows raised. “No?”
“That won’t happen,” she said, standing up. “I don’t have any misconceptions about what we’re about to get into, Kiel. Trust me on that. But I will get you to that vault. Doesn’t matter how many Science Soldiers Dr. Verity lines up between us and that door. You’ll get there and unleash the Source of Magic. I promise.”
He smiled, just a bit. “How can you possibly promise that, with everything we’re about to face? It’s not exactly a fair fight.”
She shrugged. “None of this is fair. It isn’t fair that you’re a clone, or what happened to my parents and sister. It isn’t fair that so many of your people are suffering, or that the people of Quanterium ever allowed Dr. Verity to take over. It’s not fair, Kiel. Believe me, if anyone knows that, it’s me.” She took a step toward him and laid her human hand on his arm. “You’re about to give up your heart, to save the world. I can’t imagine anyone who wasn’t named Kiel Gnomenfoot ever doing that.”
Owen forced a smile, very aware of her hand on his arm. “That doesn’t mean we’ll win.”
“It means you already did.” She paused, then made a disgusted face. “What have you turned me into? I had a whole speech planned about how I’d make sure you got there, no matter what, and you make me go and say something like ‘you already won’? Ugh!”
Owen laughed as she shook her head, smiling in spite of herself. She was right, though. This wasn’t the same Charm from the books. Something had changed.
Not that it mattered, though. She didn’t even know who Owen really was. The girl who grinned at him with the awesome robotic eye really did believe he was Kiel Gnomenfoot, not Owen Conners. Why couldn’t he just tell her, now that it was so close to the end? What would it change?
“Can I . . . tell you something?” Owen said. “A secret?”
She sighed, swatting his arm. “If you have to.”
It’d be so easy. Just say it, and she’d know!
&nb
sp; But she’d also know. She’d know that the Kiel she thought she knew was actually some stranger. She’d know that the boy she was about to get into the fight of her life with was someone she’d never really met before. A boy who’d lied to her from the moment he met her, and even now couldn’t tell her the whole truth, that she was a character in a book.
And worst of all, she’d lose all hope that they might actually make it through this.
“I’m really happy to have gotten to know you,” he said finally, and quickly hugged her.
She gave him a surprised look, but accepted the hug, if a bit awkwardly. And for a moment things didn’t seem so bad.
And then something hit the spaceship, and the two were thrown into the wall hard enough to almost knock Owen out.
“What was that?” Charm shouted, pushing Owen to his feet and running back to the piloting computer as the ship tilted forward, falling out of control toward the planet below.
“I think we were hit,” Owen said, trying to shake the fog out of his head and grabbing for the nearest chair to steady himself with the tilted floor.
“Missiles from Quanterium!” Charm yelled, holding on to the pilot’s chair. “We’re going to crash in less than a minute!”
Before Owen could answer, a bright green hologram shimmered into place in the middle of the ship and turned to address them both.
“Ah, children,” Dr. Verity said, his hologram crackling as the ship began to hurtle to the ground. “I take it you have the Seventh Key and are on your way to open the Vault of Containment, then?”
Owen gave him a cold, hard, Kiel-type look, or as hard a look as he could give while desperately holding on to a chair to keep from falling forward. “So what if we are?”
Charm shook her head violently at him, but Dr. Verity smiled. “Indeed. I considered letting you reach the vault, as that seemed like the most fitting and enjoyable place to end all of this. Let you believe you’d won, then pull the rug out from under you. But then it occurred to me. Why take the chance? Isn’t it far safer to just do away with you here, now?”
“So you shot us down?” Charm shouted.
Dr. Verity shrugged. “Seemed a bit pedestrian, I admit, but it did the job. Speaking of doing the job, though: Just to make sure, this hologram will morph from soft to hard light when I finish speaking, then explode.” He smiled. “As I said, just to make sure.”
“Kiel, the keys!” Charm shouted, and leaped for the spot where the first six keys were hidden.
“It’s been a true pleasure, using you as my scapegoats,” Dr. Verity told them. “You really have made this whole starting a war against Magisteria so much easier for me. And for that, I owe you big.” He paused. “Let’s hope this is a big enough way to say thanks!”
And then he exploded.
CHAPTER 37
The tower seemed higher than it had any right to be, considering it’d just been created out of thin air within the last day. Bethany climbed as silently as she could, hoping that the Magister wasn’t using magic to listen for intruders.
Each room she passed, she stopped to check for books. The Magister seemed to have re-created his tower exactly, so instead of anything useful and literary, most rooms were filled with magical experiments, weird time changes where everything happened backward, or worst of all, the room of ten thousand smells. (The less said about that last one, the better. Jonathan Porterhouse apparently liked his magic quirky.)
She had the location spell still, of course. It could probably locate the perfect thing to use against the Magister, just as easily as it might find her father. But after seeing her father, even the version in the Magister’s fake story . . . she couldn’t. Not her one chance to find him. With everything happening, she had to hold on to this one thing, keep this one thing safe, for herself. No matter what.
After exploring fourteen floors up from the dungeon, Bethany finally opened the door to what looked like a room the size of a closet, only it turned out to extend farther than she could see. And every single inch was filled with books.
“Finally,” she whispered, and walked inside, leaving the door just a bit open so Kiel would know where to lead all the fictional creatures the Magister had freed already.
She walked into the room full of shelves, pushing her way past random piles of books on the floor, as well. Now that she was here, how was she ever going to sort through all of these? Somehow, not only did she need to find a weapon to use against the Magister, but she also had to take care of all those monsters in one fell swoop. Assuming Kiel made it back with them all.
What was she talking about? He’d been eaten alive by a dragon, then walked out of its mouth making jokes. If anything, he’d be here sooner rather than later.
In spite of everything, Bethany smiled to herself. Be more fictional. Somehow, Kiel actually made things fun, even in the worst of all possible situations. Which they were clearly in.
She passed through the shelves, scanning the titles as fast as she could. Every so often she’d pull a book down, making a pile for later use, but nothing she found would do much against a horde of mythical creatures.
Wait. They were all creatures from myth and fantasy. Where were the monsters and aliens from science fiction? Maybe unconsciously, the Magister was still avoiding science. No matter how much he hated the idea, part of him was still the same character from the Kiel Gnomenfoot books.
A roar from below brought Bethany back on track, but at least she had an idea for what to use against the Magister’s army. And now that she knew what she was looking for, the search went much quicker. Two shelves later, she found something that might do just fine.
After a quick jump into and back out of the book, she was back on the stairs with a pile of books, taking them two by two as loud footsteps pounded up a few floors below. “This way, you made-up idiots!” Kiel yelled. “Catch me if you can, which you can’t, because you’re so poorly written!”
She stopped three floors up from the library, then froze, trying hard to hear the moment Kiel reached the library door. He must have found it, because she heard him yell, “In here! First one who eats me gets a punch in the gut from the inside!”
And then Bethany heard the enormous crackling of electricity she’d been listening for, followed by complete silence.
Poor Kiel. Still, he should be fine, at least for a few minutes. She waited, just to be sure there weren’t any stray fictional creatures still wandering around, then turned and continued up the tower.
Carrying a pile of books made the climb to the top take even longer than she’d have thought. Thankfully, all the noise below hadn’t seemed to disturb the Magister, as the enormous wooden door at the very top remained closed. It occurred to Bethany that this was the exact same door Dr. Verity had opened what felt like years ago at this point when she and Owen had visited the sixth Kiel Gnomenfoot book.
And now she was Dr. Verity, coming to face the Magister. Ugh.
As her hand touched the doorknob, she heard a voice from inside, and froze. “You’re not from this world, boy,” the Magister was saying. “No more than I am. But they control you here. They force your every action to suit their whims, mostly for their own entertainment. They invented us because magic never existed in their world, so they had to invent it just to feel whole.”
“But this is my world,” said a young voice with a British accent. “At least, it feels . . . similar.”
As she listened, Bethany carefully flipped through the books she’d brought and ripped out specific pages, stuffing each into her pocket.
“Open your eyes, boy,” the Magister said. “Don’t you see? Don’t you see what they’ve done?”
“If what you say is true, then why would they do this?” the boy asked. “And where would they find the power, especially without magic?”
“I haven’t yet learned that answer, but I will. And you shall stand by my side when I do. I have a power source, locked in the dungeon below. With that power, I can free all oppressed characters
from every story ever written. And then, with their former entertainers united against them, we’ll send this world’s people into the stories they wrote for us. We’ll be free to live on their world, as we should have been from the beginning!”
“But many would be hurt, maybe killed,” the boy said. “How can you think that’s—”
“Those who would control the fates of others deserve no less,” the Magister said. “But if you need further proof as to these people’s treachery, I offer you this.”
The door flung open, and Bethany stumbled into the room.
“This girl,” the Magister said, pointing at Bethany. “It was her power I used to bring you here. Cast a spell on her mind, my new apprentice. Force her to tell you the truth. The others come from other worlds, but she was born here. She will know. Make her tell you.”
The boy, wearing a gray shirt and pants that looked like they came from the middle ages, gave Bethany a doubtful look. “I don’t use my power like that.” He frowned. “At least, I don’t want to. Part of me wishes I did, but . . . but that part isn’t in control.”
The Magister smiled. “You can be whoever you want to be once they’re gone, my friend. That is the beauty of freedom, and all it takes is seizing it!”
“He might be right,” Bethany admitted, standing up. “I can’t honestly say that . . . Wait, what’s your name?”
“Merlin,” the boy told her.
Bethany’s eyes widened, and she lost her place for a second. Merlin? But she quickly pulled herself together and continued. “He could be telling you the truth, Merlin. Not about freeing all the characters from stories, or trapping people in books—that part is insane. But writers here do somehow see into your minds, see your thoughts and your worlds, see other time periods and histories.” She shook her head. “Do they make them up? Are they just witnesses to a different reality? I don’t know. I don’t know that anyone knows.”
“That can’t be!” the Magister roared. “The writers must hold us in their sway! You believe the people of Quanterium would try to wipe out all of Magisteria if they weren’t being controlled somehow?”