<<Part Three
Part Four:
The Locksmith Dances
The Locksmith’s home was a quaint, crooked little
place that spoke of long comfortable nights by the fire and creaked pleasantly.
A happy little place. He sat me down at his creaky little table, surrounded by
three plush chairs. He handed me a cup of tea in a chipped tea cup and plopped
three cubes of sugar to sizzle and dissolve.
“Who is the Wizard?”
“A scourge.” The Locksmith frowned. “He appeared about
a year and a half ago, he and the Alchemist had words. Soon after, the
Alchemist was on the run. I can only assume that is why he left you. Milk?”
“Please.”
He lifted the creamer, which did not match the tea
cups or pot, and poured a measure of milk into my cup. “So tell me, when did
you last see your husband?”
“Until a few moments ago, I thought he was dead.”
“Dead?” He frowned again, tapping a spoon against his
cheek. “He must have created a construct in his image.”
Now I was confused, though the tea cup did not seem to
be. “Huh?”
“Your husband could create gold from dross. It is what
the Alchemist does.” He sipped his tea. “He could easily have created a
likeness of himself.”
“So he faked his death to run from the Wizard? That
doesn’t quite make sense. Why fake your death out there for an enemy in here?”
My point was well-made and it was a question that needed to be asked. The air
fairly shimmered with the asking.
His eyes grew shrewd, thinking it through. The cutlery
practically cheered me, reveling in the brilliance of that single question.
“Unless it is an enemy he faces in both the Nowhere and the other world.” He
tapped the spoon against his cheek again. “If I knew the Alchemist outside of
Nowhere, I would be better equipped to help you.”
I was hesitant to sigh, but it escaped anyway. “I
can’t think of anyone David knew that would want to hurt him…but then, I didn’t
know about any of this either.” I looked the Locksmith in the eyes, noting for once
the mad bicoloration of his eyes. One green, one orange. “Why didn’t he tell
me?”
“You’re a bit young for the knowledge.”
“I’m twenty-four; David’s only twenty-seven.”
The Locksmith snorted tea out of his nose. “He told
you he was twenty-seven?”
“Isn’t he?” Now things were starting to get snarled.
“Well…I suppose that’s close. I met him when he was a
teenager. He wandered here through a basement entrance. I, of course,
immediately built a door and locked it up. Can’t have people running in and
out. It’s a dangerous place for people alone.”
“The door in the basement of the building on Hanover
Street. He has a lab there now.”
The Locksmith nodded. “Yes, he needed to have access
to Nowhere that no one else could see.”
“How long ago was it?”
“Oh…that was about the time that American invented the
automobile.” He dumped another cube of sugar into his tea.
“That was over a hundred years ago.”
“Yes, I suppose it was. I lose track of time.”
“But that was…over a hundred years ago. David can’t be
that old.”
“Most people don’t talk to spoons either. Nothing is
impossible, not for people like us. And especially not in Nowhere. As I said,
you’re a bit young. I suppose David would have told you in a few more years,
ease you into it. Your power is still growing, changing. Most people with your
gifts only Listen and Speak, but you, you also See.”
“Winter.”
He nodded. “You see Winter as it is. The cloud folk
draping the world in snow. It’s a rare gift for one so young. Of course, most
of us don’t survive that long. Usually some rogue dresser topples and crushes
your kind to death. I almost had a door slice me in half. The Alchemist had
chemicals go bad on him, tried to turn into dynamite and explode in his face.
We have to prove we’re worthy of our gifts to the things we have dominion over.
You managed not to irritate the inanimate at all. They like you, genuinely.”
“I like them. My teddy bear was my best friend when I
was a child. My dresser and I had an understanding. I polished her, and she
didn’t lose my socks.” I remembered fondly. “The dryer wanted shoes in exchange
for socks. Which was good, my mother insisted upon patent leather shoes. The
dryer liked them very much.” I shrugged. “If you're nice to someone, usually
they’re nice to you.”
“Most people do not have your attitude.” He dropped
another sugar cube into his tea. “You’re taking this well.”
“Not really. But I don’t have time to ask a thousand
questions and have my head explode. This is faster.”
“Practical and pretty. I can see why David fell in
love with you.”
“This doesn’t answer who’s after David.” The chair
tried to console me, but I wasn’t in the mood. “I just can’t think of anyone
who’d hurt him.”
“The first step is figuring out why David sent you
here in the first place.” He sipped his tea. “This is a dangerous place for
first-timers. Especially without a Guide.”
“And who says she doesn’t have a guide?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin, but the teacup
resolutely refused to spill on me, bless him. The creature that had spoken
jumped into my lap, folded her tail around blue socked feet and nuzzled me.
“Variel.”
“In the flesh…so to speak,” she answered with a purr.
“That is the Alchemist’s Cat,” the Locksmith said.
“I am.” Variel rubbed her head against my hand. “But I
am also Catherine’s Cat. Or rather, she is my Person.” She met his eyes with a
clear green gaze. “I will protect her, it’s my duty.”
“Well, that takes care of that.”
“You knew?” I stared at the cat.
“I did. And as the Locksmith has already said, you
were too young by far. I didn’t want to spook you.”
“I talk to lamp-posts and my dead cat and you were
concerned with spooking me?”
“Point,” the Locksmith said.
Variel glared. “Point granted. Now, have you warned
her about perceptions and explained the necessity of chalk to her?”
“I was getting to it.”
“Eventually you mean. You’d keep the girl from her
quest for an age if you could.”
“There is no crime in that. I don’t want the poor
child to get hurt. She’s been hurt already; you can see it in the perception.”
“That doesn’t mean you need to coddle her.”
“I can do whatever I think is necessary.”
“So can I!”
“If you think I’m going to let some mangy cat—”
“Shut up!” Both of them stared at me. “Please.”
“She said please,” the Locksmith said in amazement.
“She’s a polite girl.”
“She’s right here. Explain what you need to
explain and be done with it.” I set down my teacup and dislodged my cat. “Now,
please.”
“The matter of perception,” the Locksmith said, “should
be first.” He pulled a mirror from his pocket. “We are not in Nowhere as we are
out there. We are…as we perceive ourselves to be. Or rather, how we are to the
perceptions of others even. Sometimes, we are the inner self. But rarely do you
see us as we are out there.” He handed me the mirror. “I doubt very much that
this is your appearance in the world back through the door.”
I took a peek at myself in the mirror, and nearly
dropped it. The face staring back at me was mine…but it was not. It was some
years younger than I was. Less than half my age I would guess. It was not that
the Locksmith was abnormally tall, it was that I had become very small. My
clothes were not even the same, and I was uncertain of how I had not even
noticed.
“I look like Little Red Riding Hood was attacked by a
Goth shop.”
Essentially, that was it exactly. It was a tattered grayed
black dress, a hooded gray sweater that buttoned just under my breast with tiny
black buttons, and underneath was a once white and now gray pinafore of similar
tatter. Ribbons the tone of old silver caught in my hair and in trim on the
dress. My shoes, however, were gray sneakers with black laces and my socks were
striped gray and black.
“That’s the best way to put it.” Variel nodded.
“Appearing as a child in the Nowhere is a safe thing. People will underestimate
you.” She licked her paw. “When you appear thus, it usually indicates grief,
trauma. You retreat to the self where you were safe and happy.”
“I don’t think of myself like this,” I countered. “I’d
never wear anything like this.”
“You, Catherine, wouldn’t. But you aren’t just
Catherine. You’re also the Spellbinder,” the Locksmith said. “This is how that
side of you sees herself. Well, that and the perceptions of others can affect
you.”
“He means we’re affecting you,” Variel said. “I see
you as a child, he sees you as a child, and you yourself are hurting and
damaged. That damages your self-perception. But now that you’ve seen yourself
this way, it’s likely you’ll stay this way until your emotional state changes.”
“This is all very complicated.” I sighed, staring at my fingernails’ chipped black polish.
“This is all very complicated.” I sighed, staring at my fingernails’ chipped black polish.
“It’s psychology, and that is very complicated.”
The Locksmith leaned forward. “Now, this also applies
to other people. Their perception of themselves, and your perception of them
can overlap, and one can take over the other. If you ask someone for their
name, and they give it to you, that binds them to what they have said.”
“And if someone makes a promise, or asks a question,
three times, it has power. The promise must be kept; the question must be
answered. That’s one reason you should never say your own name three times,”
Variel said.
“It binds you.”
“Precisely, and it gives the Wizard power over you. He
gets power from taking other people’s names. He’s a very dangerous.”
“David said his name three times.” It wasn’t a
question.
“It’s possible,” Variel acknowledged. “But there are
more dangerous things out there than the Wizard. Nothing is more dangerous than
the evil you cannot see.”
“I won’t argue with you. But, it’s easier to see the
other evil when the flashy one is out of the picture. Whatever I do, I’ll have
to deal with the Wizard at some point,” I said.
“Practical, pretty, and smart as a button.” The
Locksmith smiled.
“I told you that a long time ago.”
“You aren’t going to start arguing again, are you?” I
raised an eyebrow. Cat and man turned to look at me guiltily, and shook their
heads. “Good. Now, tell me about chalk.”
Part Five>>
Part Five>>
