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Everlost
  • Текст добавлен: 16 октября 2016, 23:48

Текст книги "Everlost"


Автор книги: Neal Shusterman



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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

“I’m tired of sleeping every night,” Nick said. “We don’t need it. We don’t get tired,” and then he said the real reason why he didn’t want to sleep. “I don’t like not dreaming.”

Allie felt the same way, but didn’t want to say anything about it. Once, many years ago, her appendix had burst, and she had gone under general anesthesia. It was a strange sensation. She started to breathe in the anesthetic, and boom, she was out. Then suddenly she was awake again, and it was all over. There was just a hiccup of time, some groggy confusion, and she was back, with an ache in her side and some stitches. It was like…not existing. Sleep here was the same way.

“We sleep because we can,” she told Nick. “Because it reminds us of what it’s like to be alive.”

“How can eight hours of death remind us of being alive?”

Allie had no answer for him, only that it felt right. It felt natural, and in their unnatural state, anything that felt natural was a good thing. In the end Nick stopped his grumbling, and lay down. “I’ll lie here, but I’m not going to sleep. I’ll stay awake and watch the stars.”

The stars, however, were not sufficiently exciting to keep him awake. In fact, they were sedating. He fell asleep before Allie did, leaving her to ponder their predicament. What if she got home, and her parents weren’t there? What if her father had died in the accident, and her mother had moved away? She wouldn’t be able to ask anyone about it, she’d have no way of finding out. She was thankful when the anesthetic sleep of Everlost finally overtook her.

The ambush came without warning in the middle of the night.

Nick and Allie opened their eyes to four stern, glowing faces looking down on them. In an instant they were grabbed and hauled to their feet, roughed up and manhandled. Allie tried to scream, but a large hand covered her mouth. A hand like that of a monster. Only these weren’t monsters; these were boys no older than she.

“Nick!” she called. But Nick was too busy fighting off two boys who were struggling to hold him as well.

“What’s your problem?” Nick shouted. “Who are you? What do you want? “

“We ask the questions,” said the boy who was apparently in charge. He was smaller than the rest, but clearly the toughest of the lot. He wore baggy knickerbockers, not much different from Lief’s, and from h.is lip dangled a cigarette that never got smaller and never went out. But by far the strangest thing about him was his hands. They were the size of a man’s hands, big and knobby, and when he curled them into fists, they seemed as large as boxing gloves.

“I think they’re Greensouls, Johnnie-O,” said one kid with a weird mop of candy-apple-red hair that made him look like a Raggedy Andy doll. “A week old, maybe less.”

“I can see that,” Johnnie-O said. “I’m not stupid, I know a Greensoul when I see one.”

“We’re Afterlights,” Nick shouted out, “just like you, so leave us alone.”

Johnnie-O laughed. “Of course you’re Afterlights, idiot. What we’re saying is that you’re new arrivals. Greensouls. Get it?”

“They might still got stuff,” said Raggedy Andy. “Greensouls always got stuff.”

“Welcome to Everlost,” Johnme-O said in a voice that wasn’t welcoming at all.

“This here’s my territory, and you gots to pay me for passage.”

Allie gave the boy holding her a punch in the face to get him to let go. “Is this how you always greet visitors?” Allie said.

Johnnie-O took a suck on his cig. “Visitors ain’t always friendly.”

Nick shrugged off the two boys who were holding him. “We don’t have anything to pay you with.”

“Yeah, so I guess you’ll just have to kill us,” Allie said snidely, and added, “Oh, sorry, guess you can’t.”

“Turn their pockets,” Johnnie-O ordered, and his goons reached into Nick and Allie’s pants pockets and turned them inside out. Mostly they got lint, but Nick had a couple of things he had forgotten were in there. There was that old coin, which must have been a nickel, although the face had worn off. The tough kids weren’t interested in it, and flicked it back at him. He caught it and returned it to his pocket.

It was the other object in Nick’s pocket that got their attention.

“Look at this,” said a funny-looking kid with dark purple lips, like he had died while sucking on a grape jawbreaker. He held up a hard little object that had fallen out of Nick’s pocket, which Nick quickly recognized as a piece of what is commonly referred to as “ABC” gum, wrapped up in its original wrapper. His mother always complained that he left his chewed gum in his pockets and it got all over the clothes in the wash.

The purple-mouthed kid held the hard, cold wad of gum and looked over at Johnnie-O, hesitating.

“Hand it over,” said Johnnie-O. His voice was commanding for a boy of his size.

He opened up his huge, beefy hand.

Still Purple-puss hesitated. “We can cut it into pieces,” he suggested.

“I said hand it over.” Johnnie-O held his upturned palm right before the boy.

You didn’t say no to a palm that big. Purple-puss gingerly put the small, round wad into Johnnie-O’s hand.

“Next time I have to ask you twice,” Johnnie-O said, “you’re going down.”

Purple-puss’s Adam’s apple bobbed nervously, like a walnut in his throat. Or a jawbreaker.

Then Allie and Nick watched in utter disbelief as Johnnie-O peeled the paper from the sticky piece of gum and popped it in his mouth.

“Oh, gross,” said Nick.

In response, Raggedy Andy punched him in the stomach. Nick doubled over out of reflex, only realizing a second later that it didn’t hurt. How annoying it must be for bullies, he thought, to not be able to inflict pain. This place must be a bully’s version of hell.

Johnnie-O worked the gum until it was soft again. He closed his eyes for a moment as he chewed. “A lot of flavor still left in this one,” he said.

“Cinnamon.” Then he looked at Nick. “You always waste your gum like that?” he said. “I mean, when you were living?”

Nick only shrugged. “I chew until I can’t taste it anymore.”

Johnnie-O just kept on chewing. “You ain’t got no tastebuds.”

“Can I have it next?” said Purple-puss.

“Don’t be gross,” Johnme-O said.

Allie laughed at that, and Johnnie-O threw her a sharp gaze, followed by a second gaze that was more calculated.

“You’re not the prettiest thing, are you?” he said.

Her lips pulled tightly together in anger, and she knew that made her less attractive, which only made her angrier. “I’m pretty enough,” she said. “I’m pretty in my own way.” Which was true. No one had ever called Allie a ravishing beauty, but she knew very well that she wasn’t unattractive, either. What made her madder still was that she had to justify herself and the way she looked to this big-handed creep, who chewed other people’s used gum. “On a scale of one to ten,” Allie said, “I suppose I’m a seven. But you, on the other hand, I estimate you to be about a three.” She could tell that it stung, mainly because it was true.

“Seven’s not worth lookin’ at,” he said. “And the way I see it, we’re not going to have to look at each other much longer, are we?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Nick, who did not like the sound of it any more than Allie did.

Johnnie-O crossed his arms, making his oversized hands seem even larger compared to his small chest. “A single piece of gum don’t buy you passage over my territory,” he said. He turned to Nick. “Which means you gots to be my servant now.”

“We’ll do no such thing,” said Allie.

“I wasn’t talkin’ to you. We don’t need the likes of you around here.”

“Well,” said Allie, “I’m not going without him.”

And the others laughed.

“Oh,” said Raggedy Andy, “I don’t think he’ll want to go where you’re going.”

Allie didn’t quite know what that meant, but even so, she started to panic.

“Grab her,” Johnnie-O ordered his comrades.

Allie knew she had to think of something quick, and so she said the first thing that came to mind. “Stay away from me or I’ll call the McGill!”

That stopped them dead in their tracks.

“What are you talkin’ about?” said Johnnie-O, not as sure of himself as he was a second ago.

“You heard me!” Allie yelled. “The McGill and I have a special arrangement. It comes when I call it. And I feed it bad little thieves whose hands are bigger than their brains.”

“She’s lying,” said another kid, who hadn’t spoken until now, probably because he had such a nasty, squeaky voice.

Johnnie-O looked all irritated. “Of course she’s lying.” He looked at Allie and then back at the quiet kid. “So how do you know she’s lying?”

“She’s a Greensoul—probably just crossed over,” the squeaky kid said, “which means she hasn’t even seen the McGill.”

“Besides,” said Purple-puss, “no one sees the McGill and lives.”

“Except for her,” said Nick, figuring out his own angle on the situation.

“That’s why I stay with her. As long as I’m with her, the McGill protects me, too.”

“So, what’s it look like?” Johnnie-O said, looking closely at Allie, trying to read the bluff in her face.

“Well, I could tell you,” she said, using one of her father’s favorite lines.

“But then I’d have to kill you.”

The others laughed at that, and so Johnnie-O curled his heavy hand into a fist and smashed the closest kid for laughing. He flew back about five feet. Then Johnnie-O got closer to Allie again.

“I think you’re lying,” he said.

“Guess you’ll just have to find out,” Allie taunted back. “Touch me and I call the McGill.”

Johnnie-O hesitated. He looked at Allie, looked at Nick, then looked at the boys around him. His authority had been challenged, and Allie realized too late that she should have figured another bluff– one that would allow this little creep to keep his dignity, because a kid like this would rather risk getting eaten by a monster than be disrespected by a girl.

He looked her square in the eye and said, “You’re going down.” With that, he snapped his fingers, a dry, brittle sound, like a cracking plate. Then three kids grabbed her, pulled her off the dead-spot, put her down on the living-world roadway, and began to lean heavily on her shoulders.

In an instant she had sunk into the asphalt up to her knees, and an instant later up to her waist.

“No!” she screamed. “McGill, McGill!” she called.

It only gave them a brief moment’s pause, and when the beast did not materialize out of thin air, they kept on pushing. Now it was easier for them, with Allie in up to her waist.

Nick struggled and kicked against the hands holding him, but it was no use. All he could do was watch as the others leaned and pressed on Allie’s shoulders, pushing her deeper and deeper into the ground. Soon her shoulders disappeared and she was up to her neck and still she was screaming, hysterically now, and Johnnie-O just laughed.

“Let me do the honors,” he said. And with that, he came over, grabbed her on the top of the head and began to push down. “Enjoy the trip,” he said. “Don’t bother writing.”

And then another voice entered the fray. A high-pitched scream came out of nowhere, and a figure burst onto the scene, arms flailing wildly.

“The McGill!” shouted one of the other boys, “the McGill!”

Again that squealing war cry, and then Allie heard no more of it, for her ears and her eyes and the top of her head had sunk into the asphalt. Johnnie-O had stopped pushing, but gravity was doing the rest. The Earth had her like quicksand and she was going down. She tried to scream, but no sound came out, it was completely muffled by the earth filling it. The Earth had swallowed her, and the feeling of it in her chest—in that place where her lungs should have been —was more awful than anything she could remember, and it dawned on her that this could very well be her eternity. She was on her way to the center of the Earth.

How deep was she beneath the surface of the road now? Six inches? Six feet? She forced her arms to move, using every ounce of strength she had. It was like swimming in molasses. She forced one hand up high, and tried to haul herself upward, but it did no good. Then, just before all hope left her, someone reached down out of nowhere, grabbed her hand, and pulled. She felt herself sliding upward inch by inch. She forced her other hand up through the asphalt until her fingertips brushed the cool air, and someone grasped on to that hand as well.

She moved up, and could feel the top of her head and her eyes and ears clearing, and finally her mouth, and she released the scream that had been held back by the dirt and the rocks, like a gag in her mouth.

Had Johnnie-O and his gang changed their minds? Or was this the monster that she had summoned out of the woods, pulling her out of the Earth, only to devour her?

But with her eyes clear, she could now see into the face of her savior.

“Lief?”

“Are you okay?” Lief said. “I thought you were lost for sure.”

Nick was there too, and together the both of them pulled until Allie came out and landed on the solid ground of the dead-spot. She collapsed in a heap, breathing heavily, and Lief looked at her strangely.

“I know, I know,” said Allie. “I don’t have to be out of breath, but I want to be. It feels right to be.”

“It’s okay,” said Lief. “Maybe someday you can teach me to feel that way again.”

“Where’s Johnnie-O and his cast of morons?” Allie asked.

“Gone,” Nick told her. “They were so freaked when Lief came charging out at them, they took off.”

Lief laughed. “They really thought I was the McGill. Ain’t that a hoot and a half?”

Lief began to pull ghost weeds from beneath the WELCOME TO ROCKLAND COUNTY!

sign, and used their stalks to repair his road-shoes, which must have broken when he charged Johnnie-O. “Have you been following us all this time?” Allie asked.

Lief shrugged. “Well, yeah. I had to make sure you didn’t get eaten by no monsters, didn’t I?”

“Great,” said Nick. “We’ve got our own guardian angel.”

“If I were an angel, I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

Allie smiled. After all these years Lief had left his forest for them. It could not have been a choice he made lightly, and so she vowed to herself that from this moment on, she would look out for him in any way she could.

They didn’t wait until dawn, figuring Johnnie-O and his gang might come back.

Rather than being troubled by the encounter, Allie found herself heartened by it. Nick was his usual gloom and doom, talking about Lord of the Flies and the dangers of rogue bands of parentless kids—but even in his worry, there was a new energy—because running into Johnnie-O proved that there were lots of Afterlights around. Not all of them would be as unpleasant as Johnnie-O’s gang.

They came to the Hudson River, and stayed on the highway that ran along the Palisades: sheer cliffs, carved by the relentless glaciers of the last Ice Age, which lined the western shore of the river. Traffic became denser, but they bore it no mind, not caring if the occasional car passed through them. In fact, for a while they tried to make a game of it, trying to figure out what song was playing on the radio during the brief instant each car sped through.

“The things we dead folk do to amuse ourselves,” Allie said, heaving a heavy sigh. The game didn’t last long, mainly because Lief, who had never heard a car radio, much less rock ‘n’ roll, felt increasingly left out.

By sunset of the next day, the cheese-grater grid-work of the George Washington Bridge appeared downriver, heralding their arrival in New York City.

Lief was overwhelmed by the sight of the great city looming before him. It was a clear day, and the whole skyline could be seen from across the river. Lief had been to New York before. Twice. Once for the Fourth of July, and once for Mr. P.

T. Barnum s circus. There were tall buildings to be sure, but none like these.

Nick and Allie stared as well. Lief assumed they were also in awe of the spectacular view. In truth, they were awed, but for an entirely different reason.

“I think I know where we should go,” Nick said, a strange hollowness to his voice. Allie didn’t answer him for a while.

“Manhattan is out of our way,” Allie finally said. “We should stay on this side of the river, and keep heading south.”

Nick looked to the city again. “I don’t care what you say. I’m taking a detour.”

This time Allie didn’t argue.

Night had fallen by the time they reached the Manhattan side of the bridge. It took the whole night without rest to make it to the heart of the city.

The towers of midtown Manhattan would have taken Lief s breath away, if he indeed had breath to be stolen. But the most wondrous sights of all were the two silver towers he saw glimmering in the light of dawn as they neared the southern tip of the city. The two towers were identical monoliths, steel and glass twins reflecting a silvery light of daybreak.

“I never knew buildings like that existed,” Lief said.

Allie sighed. “They don’t exist,” she said. “At least…not anymore.”

Lief could tell the sadness in her voice went straight down to the center of the Earth.

PART TWO Mary, Queen of Snots Everlost CHAPTER 7

The Forever Places In the course of time and history there are certain places that can never truly be lost. The living world by its very nature moves on, but some places are forever. The boy now called Lief had the good fortune to stumble upon such a place many years before: a lush mountain forest that had once been the inspiration for poets. The place brimmed with such warmth and good feeling, it inspired countless young men to propose marriage beneath its canopy, and countless young women to accept. The woods caused stiff-collared people to lose their inhibitions and dance among the leaves, wild with joy, even though they knew such dancing could have them condemned as witches.

The forest was a fulcrum of life, and so when it grew old, and a beetle infestation routed bark and bough, the forest did not die. Instead it crossed.

Its life persisted – not in the living world, but in Everlost. Here it would be eternally green, and on the verge of turning, just as the poets themselves would have liked to see it, had they not gotten where they were going.

It can be said, then, that Everlost is heaven. Perhaps not for people, but for the places that deserve a share of forever.

Such places are few and far between, these grand islands of eternity in the soupy, ever-changing world of the living. New York had its share of forever-places. The greatest of these stood near Manhattan’s southern-most tip:

the two gray brothers to the green statue in the bay. The towers had found their heaven. They were a part of Everlost now, held fast, and held forever by the memories of a mourning world, and by the dignity of the souls who got where they were going on that dark September day.

The three kids approached the great twin towers in silence. What they saw as they neared them was not at all what they expected.

There were children there. Dozens of Afterlight kids playing on the grand marble plaza: hopscotch, tag, hide-and-seek. Some were dressed like Allie, in jeans and a T-shirt. Others were more formal. Still more had clothes that seemed more from Lief’s time, all coarse and heavy. A few kids wore the gaudy bright colors of the seventies, with big hair to match.

They hadn’t been noticed yet, as they stood just beyond the edge of the plaza.

Allie and Nick were almost afraid to step onto it, as if doing so would cross them into yet another world. They stood there so long they sank to their ankles, even with their road-shoes on.

As Lief’s sense of awe did not have history nor context for this place, he had no problem moving forward. “C’mon,” he said, “what are you waiting for?”

Nick and Allie looked at one another, then took that first step forward, onto the very solid marble of the plaza that no longer existed. After the first step it became easier. It felt strange beneath their feet, so much solid ground. A team of girls playing double-dutch jump rope noticed them first.

“Hi!” said an African-American girl in drab clothes and tight cornrowed hair.

“You’re Greensouls, aren’t you?” All the time, she never stopped spinning her two ropes. Neither did the girl on the other end, who seemed entirely out of place there in the plaza, dressed in teddy-bear pajamas. Other girls skillfully jumped in and out of the arc of their spinning ropes. One girl took enough time away from the game, though, to size them up. She wore a sparkling silver halter top, and jeans that were so tight, she looked like a sausage bursting out of its skin. She looked Allie over, clearly unimpressed by Allie’s non-glittering wardrobe. “Is that what they wear now?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Then the girl in tight jeans looked at Lief, examining his clothes as well.

“You’re not a Greensoul.”

“Says who?” said Lief, insulted.

“He’s new to the city,” Allie said. “He might have crossed a long time ago, but he’s still kind of like a ‘Greensoul.’”

A big red handball came flying past, chased by a group of younger kids. The ball flew out of the plaza and into the street, crowded with the living. “Hurry,” one little boy yelled, “before it sinks!”

Another boy raced out into traffic, grabbed the ball that was already beginning to sink into the pavement, and disappeared beneath a city bus and two taxis. He paid them no mind, passing through the trunk of the last taxi as he stood up with the ball, and happily ran back to the plaza.

“You remember all those things your momma told you not to do?” said the girl with the corn-rows. “Like not running out into traffic? Well, you can do them here.”

“Who’s in charge?” asked Nick.

“Mary,” she said. “You oughta go and see her. She loves Greensouls.” Then she added, “We were all Greensouls once.”

Nick tapped Allie on the shoulder. “Look,” he said.

By now their presence had been noticed by most of the kids around the plaza.

Many of the games had stopped, and the kids stared, not sure what to do. Out of the crowd a girl stepped forward. She had long blond hair that nearly touched the floor, wore a tie-dyed shirt, and bell-bottoms so big, the cuffs practically trailed behind her like a bridal train. A ’60s hippie girl, if ever there was one.

“Don’t tell me,” said Allie, “your name is Summer, and you want to know if we’re groovy.”

“My name’s Meadow, and I don’t say groovy anymore, because I got tired of people making fun of me.”

“Do you have to insult everybody you meet?” Nick whispered to Allie, then turned back to Meadow. “I’m Nick, and this is Lief. The rude one is Allie.”

“I wasn’t being rude,” Allie insisted. “I was being facetious. There’s a difference.”

“No sweat,” said Meadow, which was almost as bad as groovy. “C’mon, I’ll take you to Mary.” Then she looked down. “What are those on your feet?”

They looked down to the bundles of sticks extending from the soles of their shoes. “Road-shoes,” said Nick. “Kind of like snowshoes, so we don’t sink, you know?”

“Hmm. Clever,” said Meadow. “But you won’t need them anymore.”

They took off their road-shoes, and followed Meadow across the plaza toward Tower One. Behind them, the rest of the kids returned to their games.

They passed a fountain in the center of the plaza, and Meadow turned to them.

“Would you like to make a wish?” Meadow asked. A closer look revealed the fountain to be full of coins beneath the shimmering water.

“Not really,” Allie said.

“Mary says every Greensoul who comes here has to make a wish.”

Nick was already reaching into his pocket.

“I don’t have a coin,” Allie said.

Meadow just smiled. “Sure you do.”

And so to prove it Allie reached into her pockets, and turned them out. “See?”

“What about your back pockets?”

Allie sighed and checked her back pockets, knowing full well they were empty—she never used her back pockets. So it surprised her when she found the coin. Not even Johnnie-O’s goons had found it. But then, she had given them such a nasty look when they had reached for her rear, they never actually checked her back pockets.

“Weird,” Allie said, as she looked at the coin.

“Not really.” Meadow gave her a hippie love-fest smile. “With all the money living people spend, everyone has at least one coin in their pocket when they cross.”

“I once had a coin,” Lief said, dejectedly, “but it got stolen.”

“Make a wish anyway,” said Meadow. “Mary says all wishes have a chance of coming true, except one.”

Nick threw his coin in, then Allie threw hers. She made the wish every Greensoul made. The wish to be alive again. The one wish that didn’t come true.

Once their wishes had joined the others in the fountain, Meadow led them toward Tower One. Lief was the ultimate tourist, staring heavenward to where the towers touched the sky. He bumped into other kids again and again, for he refused to look down. “How do they stay up?” Lief asked. “Wouldn’t something so tall fall down?”

Allie was not a girl quickly given to tears, but she had found herself crying at least once a day since her arrival. Sometimes it was the revelation of just how drastically her existence had changed that would draw tears to her eyes. Other times it was the depth of how much she missed her family. Today the tears were sudden and unexpected.

“What’s the matter?” Lief asked. But there really was no way to explain to him.

She wasn’t even sure of the reason. Was she crying with joy that this place had left a permanent impression on the world, and that it was still here in Everlost? Or was being here a reminder of how much was truly lost on that awful day when the towers crossed so violently from the world of the living? So many souls got where they were going that day, when they shouldn’t have been going at all.

“This is wrong,” Allie said. “Children shouldn’t be playing here. It’s…it’s like dancing on a grave.”

“No,” said Meadow, “it’s like putting flowers on a grave. Mary says the more happiness we bring back to this place, the more we honor it.”

“So, exactly who is this Mary?” Nick asked.

Meadow scrunched up her lips, trying to think of how to explain. “Mary’s kind of like, a shaman, you know? A spiritual leader. Anyway, she knows lots of stuff, and so she pretty much runs things around here.”

The elevator stopped abruptly and the door slid open, to reveal that they had come all the way up to the observation level. They could tell because of all of the coin-operated binocular machines lined up by the narrow windows that stretched from ceiling to floor. But everything else here had changed. It must have been remodeled into a makeshift orphanage. Just as in the square below, young Afterlights from various time periods lingered, playing games or just sitting, waiting for something to happen to them. Allie still wasn’t sure whether this was like some desecration of hallowed ground, or if having children here was somehow healing.

As they walked around the floor to the north side, they passed a food court with a pizza place and a hot dog stand. The counters were closed. It looked like they hadn’t served any food in a long time—but at each table sat kids, eating what appeared to be very, very small pieces of cake.

“That can’t be,” said Lief. “They’re eating. How can they be eating?”

Meadow smiled. “Mary traded something for a birthday cake. She shared it with all of the younger children.”

“But, we don’t eat,” said Lief, confused.

“Just because we don’t, doesn’t mean we can’t when there’s ghost food around.”

“Ghost food?” said Lief. “There’s ghost food?”

Nick looked at him and shook his head. “You’ve been around a hundred years, and you didn’t know there was ghost food?”

Lief looked like a kid who had missed the bus to Disneyland. “No one ever told me.”

Seeing the smaller children eating the birthday cake reminded Allie how hungry she was. Just like her craving for sleep, she knew her hunger would eventually pass, but there was no telling when. If it had been she who had gotten the birthday cake, she would not have been so generous as to share it with anyone.

Maybe with Nick and Lief, but certainly not a hoard of little kids.

“You’ll really dig Mary,” said Meadow. Allie had to admit there was something comforting when Meadow’s lingo matched her clothes.

A makeshift wall had been built, blocking off the north half of the floor.

Mary’s personal residence. A scrawny little kid with curly blond hair stood at the door like a pint-size guard.

“Some Greensouls to see Mary,” Meadow announced.

“Greensouls!” said the curly-haired boy excitedly. “I’m sure Miss Mary will want to see them right away.”

“Okay then. Ciao,” Meadow waved a quick good-bye, and sauntered away.

“She’s funny, isn’t she?” said the curly-headed boy. “Meadows always good for a laugh.” He put out his hand to shake. “I’m Stradivarius,” he said, “but everyone just calls me Vari. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Miss Mary.”

Miss Mary’s private residence was full of mismatched furniture. Just like the kids here, everything seemed to come from different times and different places.

It was all furniture that had crossed into Everlost: bright to the eye and hard to the touch. Apparently Alary was good at collecting things that had crossed over.

When Mary saw them, she came gliding toward them, graceful on her feet. Allie wasn’t one to judge a person by her wardrobe —after all, the snobs from her school judged her often enough—but you couldn’t help but notice Mary’s dress:

rich emerald velvet, with white lace cuffs and a lace collar so tight it seemed about ready to strangle her.

“It looks like you must have died on the way to a wedding,” Allie said. Nick didn’t settle for rolling his eyes this time. Instead he elbowed Allie in the ribs. “No,” Nick said. “That was me.”

Alary never broke eye contact with Allie. “It’s impolite to comment on how someone crosses.”

Allie felt heat rise to her cheeks, surprised to know that she could still blush from embarrassment, but Alary took her hand warmly. “Don’t feel bad,” she said.

“I was just pointing it out. You couldn’t possibly be expected to know—you’re new to all of this.” She turned to Lief and Nick. “There are many things you’ll be learning about your new lives and until you do, you mustn’t feel bad if you make mistakes.”

“I’m not new,” said Lief, unable to meet her eye.

“You’re new here,” Mary said with a warm smile, “and so you have permission to feet just as new as you want.”


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