Saoirse’s palace had collapsed. A grand scarlet castle, glittering with light and beauty, full of fine art, precious treasures, and elaborate halls, was now reduced to a mountain of dusty, crumbled rubble. The ground had opened up beneath it, swallowing much of its ruin into a Fracture, an unknowably deep chasm of black rock, darkness, and despair.
Deep within the Fracture, surrounded by the ruin of her palace, Saoirse sat in solitude, reflecting on her failure.
It would have been one thing for Tobias and Flynn to escape on their own. They’d done so before, and Tobias’ continued efforts to evade her only endeared her ever more to him. But for him and his companions to have stolen the Mirror’s light and completely destroyed her entire palace, and shattered her hold over her queendom, well — that was unacceptable.
And profoundly impressive.
Despite her long, long fall, Saoirse wasn’t hurt. Not physically, not at all — except for her right forearm, which she rubbed gingerly.
Flynn bit me.
I never imagined he’d do such a thing. And it hurt. Yet… he didn’t break the skin. He didn’t draw blood. He bit just hard enough for me to let go of Tobias, and then he immediately let go of me. That would be impressive self-control for a human, let alone a dog.
He’s really a very gentle soul, isn’t he? Just determined to protect his dearest friend…
From me.
Saoirse glared into the darkness.
My entire domain, crushed in an instant. And not even primarily by Tobias. Him, I could understand being so competent. But the promise-girl… she seemed like nothing more than bluster. If she thinks she can actually be a queen, though, I’ll make sure to disappoint her. There can only be one queen, and it certainly can’t be her. She’s sorely lacking, in every department.
Two capable fighters, a pampered princess, and a child… that’s all it took to bring down my entire domain?
I placed too much faith in the Mirror. That’s what I get for putting the responsibility on someone else’s metaphorical shoulders. I’m the only one who can be trusted as the core of my power. I won’t make the same mistake twice.
Now then… how to get out of here…?
She looked up through the rubble, but saw only the tiniest openings, barely fit for a mouse. All around her was shattered stone, collapsed close in on her, so that she barely had five feet of clear space around her. There was one block of stone she thought she’d be able to move, and beyond it seemed to be some sort of corridor, but that likely only led deeper into the Fracture.
She’d been contemplating that avenue of escape for some time now, but it didn’t appeal to her. Surely there was a better way. And she wasn’t in any hurry. She had much to think on, and being all alone at the bottom of the world gave her plenty of time to do just that.
But then, she heard a sound. Not like the slow drip, drip, drip of water that she’d been hearing for a while now, or the occasional settling of rubble that caused dust to trickle down like sand, no.
These were footsteps.
Who else would be down here?
Saoirse was curious, but not worried. What could harm her? Even without the Mirror’s power behind her, she was more than formidable enough for the dangers that lurked in the darkest corners of the world.
But there was something to that shuffling gait. Large, furred feet. Anxious, hurried steps.
Saoirse smiled. Could it be?
With an effort, a three-foot-tall white rabbit in a red waistcoat shoved a slab of stone aside, and came panting into Saoirse’s cloister of isolation. He hastily adjusted his spectacles, and one furred hand went to the large golden pocket watch hanging around his neck.
“You’re not late, White,” Saoirse said. “Right on time. As usual.”
“My Queen!” White cried, and his relief at finding her warmed Saoirse’s heart. “Thank goodness. I wasn’t sure if I could trust her, but it seems she was telling the truth.”
“You have a benefactor?” Saoirse asked, immediately suspicious.
“Of course,” came a familiar — and unwelcome — child’s voice, dripping with mischief. “You don’t really think he could have found you in this mayhem all by himself, do you?”
Saoirse glared as the child entered. “Alice,” she said. “I should have known there was more to you than meets the eye.”
“Not Alice, no,” the girl said with a little giggle. “Though I understand the confusion. She is my sister, after all.”
“You’re… twins,” Saoirse said appraisingly.
The girl giggled. “Something like that,” she said. “Call me Lacie.”
“All right then, Lacie,” Saoirse said, still not trusting this child. “Why did you help reunite me with my Ace? What do you want from me?”
“Want?” Lacie asked, eyes widening in faux innocence. “I don’t want anything from you. I want to help you, Queen of Hearts. You’ve had a pesky nightmare plaguing your sleep, and a song you can’t come to terms with bubbling up inside your heart. I can resolve both those problems.”
Saoirse suppressed a shudder, thinking about her nightmare — the nightmare she apparently shared with the promise-girl. “You can help me overcome a nightmare?” Saoirse asked, cocking an eyebrow. “How do you even know about it?”
“Oh, that’s not important,” Lacie said with a dismissive wave. She smiled, taking a step closer to Saoirse. “Give me a chance, Queen of Hearts. I’ll show you who you were always meant to be… songbird.”
——
“Alice?” Guinevere asked, watching Alice’s dismayed expression. “Is there… any way we can help you?”
Alice kept gazing ahead, as if she could still see Lacie right in front of her. Then with a suddenness that made Guinevere jump, she spun on the spot to face everyone else with a grumpy pout. “I’m hungry!” she said.
“You’re…” Guinevere started, staring.
“Filling my stomach is of the highest priority,” Alice said. “Let’s have lunch! Then we can talk.” She started off with a determined stride, past every one of them, without looking at any of them.
“I guess it’s lunchtime,” Tobias said, the first to regain his wits and follow after her. Flynn happily trotted along, tail wagging.
They all followed Alice down the Long Room to one of many dining rooms, and Guinevere realized that between last night’s dinner, this morning’s breakfast, and now lunch, they’d dined in three separate dining rooms, never revisiting the same one. Alice took a seat on one side of the table, offset from the center — it seemed like she’d just chosen her seat at random. She then started spouting off all her requests, a mouth-watering list that made Guinevere’s eyes steadily widen. When she finished, the Librarian snapped his fingers, and in a twinkling curtain of azure light…
Lunch was served.
There were small toasted sandwiches dripping with melted butter, omelets stuffed with meats and cheeses, and a huge bowl containing a delectable fruit salad, but that was all for appetizers or a main course. Alice’s preferences tended towards the sweeter things in life — and so dessert was covering the table. Cookies and small cakes, fruit tarts, whipped meringues, pastries drenched in powdered sugar and topped with cherries, crème-filled crêpes, and a strawberry shortcake placed copiously right in front of Alice. Beverages weren’t water, or tea, but hot chocolate with marshmallows, and there were several carafes of whipping cream to add if one desired.
“Perfection!” Alice said happily, blue eyes sparkling with delight. “Thank you, Librarian. Let’s dig in, shall we?”
Guinevere didn’t find herself with much of an appetite after all that had unfolded. She still felt tense, and she had numerous questions that she wanted — yet also dreaded — to ask. But she still ate a bit of the fruit salad, and it was quite delicious. Her lack of investment in food gave her plenty of time to observe the others eating.
Sheena was as graceful and poised as expected, trying a very small quantity of almost everything. Alice justified her requests by digging into everything — especially the multitude of sweets — with joyous enthusiasm. Tobias seemed to have quite the sweet tooth, as well. While he enjoyed a half-plate’s serving of omelets and fruit, he moved right on from that to the sweets, eating a large number of cookies, as well as several crêpes, and added some cream to his hot chocolate before drinking his entire cup. Elliot had a similarly-sized appetite to Tobias’, though he barely touched dessert, instead piling his plate with sandwiches and omelets and fruit and eating it all up. Ninian had only a small helping of salad and then went on to daintily eat a few cookies, small cakes, and pastries.
The Librarian ate and drank nothing, which was no surprise, while Chesh floated high above the table, dozing upside-down. Apparently the milk Lacie had offered him was plenty enough to lull him into a pleasant slumber.
“Ahh, that was excellent!” Alice said, wiping hot chocolate from her mouth with a napkin. “Thank you, Librarian. Was the sealing protocol a success?”
Guinevere started at that, looking worriedly from Alice to the Librarian. She hadn’t even considered the possibility of it failing.
“It was,” the Librarian said, and Guinevere relaxed. “The Vault is closed, and the Fracture with it, and with all of that, Lacie’s access to the Library is fully cut off. The Library is weakened with this sacrifice, but still functional. You need not worry.”
Guinevere watched the Librarian curiously. For the first time since she’d met him, he wasn’t shifting through various physical states. Ever since escaping the Fracture and returning to the Long Room, he’d maintained a single physical form and voice: a tall, dapper gentleman who looked to be in his mid-thirties, with wavy hair, inquisitive eyes, and a warm, rich baritone voice. He had a bit of a hunched posture, though, and when he spoke, there was a hint of sorrow in his voice. For the Library, and perhaps… for himself.
He never explained just what purging his Fractured other half would do to him. He’s lost more than he’ll tell us.
“That’s good,” Alice said, and sat back with a sigh. She glanced around at the entire party, and then ducked her gaze nervously. “I… I’m sorry, everyone. If I’d known that Lacie was so active… if I’d known she was awake… I would have been more alert. More careful. I might have noticed the signs before all of this catastrophe unfolded.”
“She was astonishingly powerful,” Elliot said. “I don’t think you need to apologize for anything. She took us all by surprise. And we all escaped safely, didn’t we?”
“You mentioned that before, about her being awake,” Sheena said. “What do you mean?”
“Lacie, she’s… supposed to be asleep,” Alice said. “And she wasn’t there physically. Her physical self should still be asleep, but even in slumber… she’s still so powerful. I never knew this was possible.”
There was a sudden pop!, not unlike when Chesh transported them places, and everyone jumped to see a tiny mouse wrapped in blankets, her head cushioned on pillows, appear in the center of the dining table.
“Dormouse?” Guinevere asked, gaping.
“Ah, you’ve decided to join us,” Chesh said, floating lazily down to grin at the mouse. “Good morning, sweet mouse.”
“Good evening, silly Cat,” said Dormouse. Her eyes fluttered open just for a moment, and she smiled sleepily as they closed again. “Sleep is not a prison, is it? Dreams allow us great freedom.”
“Don’t forget sleepwalking,” Chesh said with a chuckle.
“You know about Lacie?” Alice asked, leaning in close to Dormouse.
“And you,” Dormouse said. “Of course I know of the sisters. Or have you forgotten all our lovely tea dates together, Alice?”
“I… haven’t,” Alice said. But she couldn’t hide the hesitation in her voice, and sat back slightly, bowing her head.
“You haven’t,” Dormouse said with a lovely little smile. Though she was talking in her sleep, that smile felt to Guinevere like the sun waking up, brightening the whole room. “It’s all in there, somewhere.”
“Or somewhere else,” Chesh said, doing a slow flip in the air. “A bit here, a bit there, a bit everywhere. The House is in disarray.”
“Dreams are Lacie’s avenue to power,” Dormouse continued. “Every dream is a story, every story a world. Waking has its benefits. But sleeping is not powerlessness. Not for one like Lacie.”
“But then… was it all for naught?” Alice asked in a tiny voice.
“Certainly not,” Dormouse said. She shifted in her covers, rolling over to face Alice —though she still didn’t open her eyes. “In waking, Lacie’s power would be far more terrible. The slumber restricts her. But the restriction lessens night after night. She is waking.”
“And if she wakes…” Tobias started, “What will happen? Zweitracht running rampant?”
“In more ways than one,” Dormouse murmured. “Hello, Tobias. It’s lovely to see you again. My offer still stands, if you require my assistance.”
“Thanks,” Tobias said, smiling. “But you should save the keys for those who need them most. Flynn and I can find our way.”
“Keys?” Guinevere asked.
“To doors between realms,” Tobias said. “Dormouse is the keeper of the keys.”
“Someone must guard those treasures,” Dormouse said. “I apologize for not being more on my guard against outside influences. I, too, was caught unawares by Lacie’s activity. But the keys were kept safe from her. I don’t think she wanted any, come to think of it.”
“If Lacie’s so powerful,” Elliot said, looking at Alice, “don’t you have some power of your own to rival her? I just mean, since you’re sisters, I thought perhaps…” He trailed off, looking guilty about asking such a question.
“I… don’t,” Alice said sadly. “I’m just… me.”
“Just you is plenty, Alice,” Chesh said happily.
Alice smiled, just a little. “There is a power in Elysia that can stop her,” she said. “That’s why I need to go there. I… there’s something I can do. I think. I won’t know until I’m there. But if I can’t…” She shook her head.
“We’ll get you there,” Tobias said. He looked at Alice, until she looked up at him. He nodded, and Alice’s smile grew a little. Tobias turned to the Librarian. “Did you find anything on that front to help us?”
“I was unable to complete the guidebook I’d set out to create for you,” the Librarian said. “However, I did procure an illustration that might aid you, and pinpointed more accurately where you need to be looking.” He snapped his fingers, and in a flicker of azure light, a pair of weathered pages appeared on the table. Everyone leaned in close to get a better look.
“This is the lighthouse Maestro Brahe mentioned,” Tobias said, looking over the illustration, one of a grand, spiraling lighthouse, its beam shining towards the phantom image of a golden city — Elysia? “And this…” He brought out the second page, which showed a map of Ars Moran’s Quarter of Order, with numerous symbols drawn on it. “What we seek is in Ars Umbra’s Undercroft?”
“It appears so,” the Librarian said. “The Intersection from Loch Reòsair will not take you all the way. You will need to find a way inside.”
“I have that covered,” Guinevere said. She knew she could count on Rosalie to help her — even if she was bringing a larger group with her.
“Then we’re all set,” Alice said. “It’s time to go to Loch Reòsair!”
“But before that,” Tobias said, turning serious as he looked across the table — at Guinevere. “We need to talk about you.”
“Me?” Guinevere asked, scooting back despite herself. “What for?”
“Your nightmare,” Alice said, sharing the same realization as Tobias. “And the truth inside you: you’re a songbird.”
“Lacie said the same,” Guinevere said. “But what does that mean?”
Ninian sang a beautiful song, full of hope and joy. And yet something in it… it made Guinevere shudder.
“Yes, that!” Alice cried, pointing at Guinevere. “Exactly!”
“Exactly what?” Guinevere asked.
“You’re afraid of the song inside you,” Alice said. “Just like every other songbird. You encountered it in your nightmare, didn’t you? We couldn’t see or hear everything from beyond the veil, but we got enough pieces to make sense of it.”
“The song…” Guinevere started, and shivered just to recall it. “Why does it frighten me so? Why… why did the Nightmare King…?”
“He must have used your fear of it to gain a foothold in your heart,” Alice said thoughtfully. “Every songbird struggles with it. The voice of Elysia calls to you. But you can’t accept it. You’re afraid it will unmake you, turn you into something you’re not.”
“Won’t it?” Guinevere asked. And then she shook her head hard. “And if it won’t, then why am I so frightened it will? If it’s something good, why can’t it feel like something good?”
Ninian sang, full of calming hope and comfort, and Alice translated. “The song is the voice of Elysia. Once, its Song filled the entire world, and touched every heart. But we live now in a Fractured world, divorced from Elysia’s light. Now its song can only reach certain hearts, but the hearts of this world instinctively recoil from it. You need not fear it, though. It will not unmake you, as long as you find resolution. I can help you.”
“Resolution?” Guinevere asked. “The voice of Elysia? What…” Her head was spinning, and she took a moment to try and process things. “Why is Elysia singing to me? Why… if it’s only some hearts, then why did it choose mine?”
“Hard to say,” Alice said, and looked to be thinking the matter over seriously. “You are the Promised Queen, so your Song is closely tied with Elysia’s. But it’s chosen others who are not so obviously connected to Elysia.”
“Like Asbel,” Sheena said softly, a look in her eyes like she’d just come to a realization.
“Asbel… your brother,” Guinevere said, understanding dawning in her — and guilt. “I didn’t… I mean, I didn’t realize that… I just…”
“Please, don’t apologize,” Sheena said. “You couldn’t have known for certain that your dreams were the same that led Asbel to his fate. If Elysia sang to him… but he feared it so greatly, and never found resolution…”
“A songbird who can’t find resolution, who rejects the song, becomes Dissonant,” Alice said sadly. “His monstrous form reflects the unresolved conflict within him. And, if left to fester too long, this conflict will consume him.” Ninian sang, and Alice quickly translated. “But there’s still hope for him! He will need a wish to save him, but a wish is exactly what we’re pursuing, isn’t it?” She smiled.
“Ninian,” Sheena said. “You’re going to help Guinevere find resolution with the song, correct?” Ninian sang her assent.
“And I’m going to help, too!” Alice said, raising her hand. “Guin will need a translator, after all.”
“Then I’d like to be involved, as well,” Sheena said. “So I can learn more. So I can understand my brother’s conflict, and know how to help him when he is cured.”
“How does all that sound, Guin?” Alice asked. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but you’ll be okay. We won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Thank you,” Guinevere said. It was a lot to take in — too much. But given time, and assistance from others…
I have to figure this out. If I don’t, I might become a monster like Asbel. But more than that…
It’s my own fear that let the Nightmare King in. And even though Tobias and Elliot banished him… I don’t yet feel free. If I don’t resolve this, that monster might return.
I can’t let that happen.
“But on the same subject,” Tobias said gravely, “we’ll have to take a detour before Loch Reòsair.”
“What for?” Alice asked. But Tobias didn’t look at her.
He was looking at Guinevere.
“Why is everyone so focused on me all of a sudden?” Guinevere asked. “What else could possibly be wrong with me?”
“It’s not your fault,” Tobias said. “But the Phantom — the one who calls himself the Nightmare King — can’t be vanquished by force of arms. His presence still lingers within you. You need something stronger to completely shut him out.”
Guinevere froze. Just as she’d feared. But then… “You… you know how to help me?” she asked.
Tobias nodded. “You need to visit the Caterpillar,” he said.
“Of course,” Dormouse said sleepily, shifting in her blankets. “No Nightmare is too potent for the Caterpillar’s influence. He has contended with the Phantom before, and prevailed.”
“I need the help of… a caterpillar,” Guinevere said, trying and failing to hide her skepticism.
“The Caterpillar!” Alice said. “Oh, just you wait until you meet him. He’s one of the wisest beings I’ve ever met! He’ll set you right, make no mistake. Ooh, and that means we’re heading to his forest! I do so love an opportunity to see the world from his perspective.”
“I see…” Guinevere said. But the talk of the Nightmare King recalled to her a different confrontation in the Nightmare — between Tobias and the king-pretender. She looked up at Tobias. “You’ve fought with the Night— the Phantom before. Someone was hurt.”
Tobias looked away, but not fast enough for Guinevere to miss the pain in his eyes. “It was a long time ago,” he said softly. “There was a girl whose dreams were consumed by the Phantom. I… tried to save her. And I thought I had.” He let out a regretful sigh. “I won’t make the same mistake. We’ll take you to the Caterpillar, so the Phantom never haunts you again.”
“Thank you,” Guinevere said. She’d hoped for more details, but she didn’t press.
“Ah, the Caterpillar,” Chesh said, bobbing up and down, slowly rising towards the rafters. “I can take you to the entrance to his demesne, of course. But I won’t be joining you inside.”
Dormouse giggled in her sleep. “Still not fond of mushrooms, Chesh?” she asked.
Chesh rolled over, swished his tail twice, and then, with a pop!, vanished, leaving only his grin behind. “A Cat does not agree with all things,” his grin said. “Or is it that not all things agree with a Cat?”
“Probably a bit of both, Chesh,” Alice said.
“Then… our path is set,” Guinevere said. “Right? To this Caterpillar, and then to Loch Reòsair?” She was eager to move past this conversation and go somewhere else.
“Right,” Tobias said. “If no one objects, we should prepare to leave.”
“I’m quite ready to get back on the road!” Alice said happily. “I’ll just go fetch my trunk. Let’s all meet at the main doors, shall we?” As she headed to leave, Chesh’s grin vanished, only for the whole Cat to appear over Alice’s shoulder and hover along after her. One by one, everyone headed out to collect their things. Guinevere was glad for the brief moment of solitude, just her and Ava wandering the halls to the bedroom she hadn’t slept in, but had functioned quite well as a place to leave her things.
So many mysteries. So many questions. I knew there was much still to learn about my companions, but…
I had no idea there were mysteries hiding inside of me.
She slumped onto the floor, the tension too much to take. Ava nosed her shoulder, and Guinevere wrapped her in a hug. “Oh, Ava,” she said, burying her face in Ava’s soft fur. “What’s going to become of me?”
There were no answers. Not yet. But just resting in Ava’s comforting warmth showed her a glimpse of the future.
Ninian has offered to help me. Alice will translate — and she knows an awful lot about this whole “songbird” thing, herself. And Sheena will join us.
And I’ll always have Ava.
“Don’t face the perils of the world alone, Guin. Everything’s a bit brighter, a bit less frightful, when you’ve got people around you that you trust.”
Guinevere could see the smiling face of Artorius’ father when he’d told her that, long ago. He was such a gentle soul, him and his wife both droplets of sunlight in Guinevere’s childhood.
“We’ll make it, somehow,” Guinevere said. Ava let out a sigh and nuzzled into her, and Guinevere cherished this moment just a little bit longer.
They would have loved to meet you. They were always so fond of dogs. Of all animals.
When she and Ava finally collected their things and joined the party at the doors of the Library, the Librarian didn’t just join them to bid them farewell. “I was not able to collect as much knowledge as I would have liked for you,” he said. “But I did manage to find a few gifts that I’m sure you will find useful.”
To Sheena, he gave a white ceramic jar not much bigger than a closed fist, which was sealed with a cork and wrapped in a white ribbon painted with elegant runes. “I believe you might recognize what this is,” the Librarian said.
“A kantetsubo,” Sheena said, taking it reverently. “I thought all were lost in the Fracturing.”
“At least one has survived,” the Librarian said. “Should you find your brother before you have reached Elysia, this can contain the monster he has become in safety, until you can wish him back to health.”
“Thank you,” Sheena said, bowing twice. She tied the jar to her belt-sash, and Akko clambered down to her waist and helped her check that it was secure.
“And for you, Alice,” the Librarian said, holding out a small white box gift-wrapped in a blue-and-silver ribbon. “I believe this belongs to you, when you are ready for it.”
Alice looked at the box with utter bewilderment. “Belongs to me?” she asked.
“I found it in the Spiral,” the Librarian said. “I hope you don’t mind that I took a look at it before wrapping it, as I wasn’t sure what it was. It seems you and I have something in common.”
“I… see,” Alice said. Slowly, with some trepidation, she took the box. “Thank you.” She took a breath, let it out, then turned on the spot, smiling at Chesh. “Well, Chesh? Shall we depart?”
“Whatever you wish, Alice,” Chesh said, grinning away.
“Don’t forget to keep your eyes closed,” Alice said quickly. The warning came just in time, and Guinevere was grateful for it.
With a pop!, they passed into the unknown, departing the Library for the next part of their adventure.