The Missing by Garth Nix
“Another Improbable Conglobulator?” said a Warden incredulously. She was one of several in a fun house, her image twisted into an impossible shape. “It surely cannot be the one Lottie herself used.”
“It must be,” said Grandma X. “Lost but not destroyed, as we thought it had been.”
“Could we use it to send someone after her?” the twisted Warden asked.
“That would be extremely dangerous,” said Aleksandr. “Any conduit to The Evil flows both ways. Was there an incursion in Portland?” he asked Grandma X.
“There was,” she said. “A small one, and it was contained.”
“Possibly because the conduit was open only long enough to allow the message through. A more significant breach, one large enough to send a whole person, might wreak a terrible toll, perhaps even destroy the wards.” He shook his head gravely. “We learned forty-five years ago what meddling with the realm of The Evil can do. This device must never be used again.”
“You would have us do nothing?” asked a Warden gazing into the reflection of a perfectly still pool.
“Lottie and her friends acted recklessly and without forethought,” said Aleksandr in a deep warning voice. “Their willfulness cost the lives of many other Wardens, Wardens who sacrificed themselves to seal the breach between Earth and the realm of The Evil that she opened. Reopening that breach will undo their valiant efforts to save this world. It will put us all at risk. And …”
Here Aleksandr hesitated. He seemed to be considering the wisdom of his words, and the twins wondered if he was about to change his mind.
“There is something I must tell you,” he said. “It will be news to most of you, because the information has been kept secret for fear of The Evil’s spies learning of it. A great work is being undertaken, even as we speak. Its existence will explain why I said that we cannot rescue Lottie, rather than will not.”
He paused for dramatic effect.
“The relic of Professor Olafsson, inventor of the cross-continuum conduit constructor, Improbable Conglobulator, Bifrost Bridge — call it what you will — has been recovered. With his knowledge and the professor’s original notebooks, we have discovered a way to neutralize the threat of The Evil once and for all. When Project Thunderclap is put into effect, the realm of The Evil will be barred from our world forever. I expect this to happen in a matter of days.”
The hubbub this announcement provoked was even louder than the first one, although this time the twins didn’t understand why. Among renewed cries of “Impossible!” Jaide heard several voices shout “Madness!” or “Insanity!” A Warden in a turban called out, “Isn’t this what led to the Catastrophe in the first place?” Those Wardens who remained silent, she assumed, were already in on the plan.
“They really found the professor?” Jack whispered to Custer.
“So it would seem.”
That at least was good news. They had discovered the animated death mask of the long-dead Warden in Rourke Castle six months ago. He had helped them and become a rather peculiar friend until he had been snapped in half and stolen by one of The Evil’s spies.
“The Hawks have clearly been busy,” Custer added.
“The who?” Jaide asked.
“There are factions among the Wardens. The Hawks advocate taking the fight to The Evil, rather than merely defending ourselves from it. The Doves want us to try to negotiate with The Evil, to arrange a peace. They have always argued. Ever since the Catastrophe, the Hawks have been in ascendance. Lottie’s actions —”
“Lottie kept her own counsel,” said Grandma X. “And she never entertained the possibility that she might be wrong.”
“Why wouldn’t we want to cut off The Evil?” asked Jaide. “Anything to make the world safe, right?”
Custer indicated the mirror, where Aleksandr had raised his hands for calm. The Gathering was settling. Hector was no longer smiling.
“I will tell you everything in a moment,” Aleksandr said. “Let me just say now that the success or failure of Project Thunderclap rests entirely on surprise. Tip our hand too early, and we will fail. Leave it too late, and the same thing will happen. Even if we succeeded in rescuing Lottie without alerting The Evil to our plans, we could not trust Lottie to keep this secret. Therefore, I ask all of you to put aside thoughts of Lottie or anyone else trapped with her. She made her choice long ago, and the weight of it must rest heavily on her shoulders alone.”
“You want us to ignore another Warden’s cry for help?” asked Hector, his expression appalled. “Once the realm of The Evil is sealed, she will be permanently out of our reach.”
“Yes.” Aleksandr’s expression was grim, but unflinching. “That is the way it must be. We have each of us taken oaths binding us to a single great duty: to save the world from The Evil. To serve that greater good, we must sacrifice our individual concerns, just as we must sometimes sacrifice ourselves.”
A new hush filled the Hall of Mirrors, one of nervous anticipation. Aleksandr was talking to Hector, but all knew to whom he was really addressing his words. The twins looked up at Grandma X and could tell by the clenched muscles in her jaw that she knew best of all.
“Will you promise me,” Aleksandr asked her, “not to attempt a rescue?”
Everyone’s attention was on Grandma X, who stood stiff-backed and silent in the face of their combined regard. The twins waited for her to speak, knowing that she would never agree to such a terrible thing. Jaide tried to imagine what it would be like if Jack was the one in the realm of The Evil. She would stop at nothing to get him back, no matter what he had done. Jack felt exactly the same way. They were twins. They were troubletwisters. It was hardwired into them to help each other in times of serious need.
There wasn’t a person in the Grand Gathering not feeling that way, they were sure. So why would Aleksandr ask the impossible? Grandma X couldn’t possibly agree.
“Promise me,” he said again, and this time it was an order, not a request.
Jaide could practically hear her grandmother’s teeth grinding.
“Yes,” she finally said. “I will do as you ask.”
The twins were aghast.
“You can’t!” blurted out Jaide.
“But she’ll die!” said Jack.
“Lottie has been dead to those who loved her for many years,” Aleksandr said.
“So?” said Jaide. “This is wrong, and you know it. You’re wrong to ask Grandma to do this.”
“There must be another way,” said Jack. “We have to help Lottie get back.”
“Silence!” ordered Aleksandr.
“Hush, troubletwisters,” their grandmother said.
The light flickered in the blue room. A gust of wind sent Custer’s long hair dancing.
“How would you feel if your twin was stuck in the Evil Dimension,” Jack asked Aleksandr.
“Or you,” added Jaide. “What did Lottie do that was so bad, anyway?”
“Remember your training,” said Custer, but it was too late. The twins’ Gifts were awake and responding to the anger they felt. Shadows stretched and deepened until the darker corners of the blue room became impenetrable black holes. The gusting wind picked up speed as it circled under tables, along bookcases, and around the light fixtures, moaning as it went.
“Control yourselves, troubletwisters!”
They did try, but the angry boom of Aleksandr’s voice only worsened the force of their Gifts. And the chaos wasn’t confined only to the blue room, either. Just as the mirror could send their images and voices to the rest of the Grand Gathering, so too could it send their Gifts. One by one the candles in the Hall of Mirrors turned black and shed no light. The giant chandeliers began to sway. Wardens wearing hats clutched them tightly to their heads as the gale picked up strength.
Jack and Jaide tried their best to control their Gifts, but the presence of so many Wardens made them restless and seemingly keen to show off. A miniature hurricane did a wild jig around Aleksandr, while thin tentacles o
“Jack, Jaide, not here.”
Their father’s voice cut gently but firmly through the crowd. The soft reproach brought blushes of embarrassment to both twins’ cheeks, and sufficiently dampened their anger at Aleksandr so that their Gifts began to creep back through the mirror. The light of the candles returned.
Aleksandr tried to put his hair in order, but it stayed standing up in patches.
“This is inexcusable,” he said. “All troubletwisters are immediately expelled for the remainder of the Gathering.”
“They mean well —” Hector tried to object.
“They are a disruption and an irrelevance. They will leave at once!”
Jack and Jaide looked shamefacedly at their grandmother, who nodded, not unkindly.
“Thank you for trying,” she said, “but there’s nothing more to be done now. Go on.”
“But, Grandma —” Jaide started to say.
“Wait outside. I’ll come to you when it’s over.”
The twins reluctantly made their way through the clutter and the tapestry that led to the top floor of the house via the secret door that linked the main house to the blue room with an impossibly short stair created by their great-grandfather, a Warden with a Gift for architectural magic. Jack’s face felt hot the whole way, while Jaide bit sharply down on her tongue to stop herself from saying something she might regret. As the door closed behind them they heard Aleksandr calling the Grand Gathering to order.
“What happened?” asked Ari, appearing at the top of the stairs with eyes round in surprise. “Is it over already? I thought you’d be at it for hours.”
Jaide freed her tongue. “They might be, but not with us. They kicked us out!”
“Don’t feel bad,” said Kleo, padding up the stairs past Ari to give Jaide a head-bump. “Warden Companions weren’t allowed, either.”
“No … that’s not it … oh!” Jaide flapped her hands at her side, and nearly succeeded in actually flapping herself right up to the ceiling. “That man’s such a pain.”
“Which man?” asked Ari.
“Aleksandr,” said Jack, taking over the explanation, as he sensed his sister was close to another explosion. “He wants to trap Grandma X’s sister in the Evil Dimension forever. And she’s going to let him.”
“That doesn’t sound like her,” said Kleo.
“Maybe she doesn’t really mean to,” said Ari. “Maybe she’s going to do something about it behind his back.”
“What can she do?” said Jack. “She can’t take on The Evil all on her own.”
“That would be very unwise,” agreed Kleo.
“They kept talking about some catastrophe forty-five years ago, when Lottie was lost,” said Jaide. “Do you know what that was?”
Both cats shook their heads.
“You could look it up in the Compendium,” said Ari. The Compendium was the pooled records of every Warden’s dealings with The Evil, and it also provided valuable information on the Wardens themselves, when the information could be understood.
“We could do that, if the Compendium wasn’t in the blue room,” said Jack. “Maybe later, when it’s all over.”
“Is that you, kids? Are you done?”
Their mother’s voice floated up from ground level.
“She cooked dinner for you,” said Kleo.
“How bad is it?” asked Jaide.
“It looks … edible,” allowed Ari.
“On our way!” Jack called back. Susan Shield’s meals were notoriously bad, but his stomach was empty and the very thought of food temporarily put all other concerns from his mind.
Jaide followed her brother down the stairs with feet as heavy as her heart. How could Grandma X even pretend to abandon her sister like that? Whatever Project Thunderclap was, it wasn’t ready to go just yet, or Aleksandr wouldn’t be warning people off. There was still time, so why wasn’t Grandma X insisting they use it?
Halfway down the stairs, the lights flickered. Jack looked up, but didn’t think anything of it. The house was old. An electrician had once come to put extra outlets in the twins’ room, but after an hour inspecting the wiring declared his amazement that anything worked at all.
“What’s the Warden of Last Resort?” Jack asked.
The cats exchanged a look.
“Why do you ask?” Kleo wanted to know.
“It was just something Aleksandr said at the beginning of the Gathering. He said it had been called by the Warden of Last Resort. He wasn’t talking about Grandma, was he?”
The lights flickered again, this time accompanied by a prolonged crackling sound.
Jack looked up at the bulb above his head. Its color had changed from a soft yellow to a harsh blue. Tiny sparks shot from it and discharged harmlessly into the air.
“That’s weird.”
“Jack …?”
It was Jaide who spoke. She had fallen behind without him noticing. He turned and saw her standing five steps above him, balanced precariously in mid-step with a hand touching a banister on either side, as though afraid she might float away.
Every long, red hair on her head was standing on end.
“Jaide! Are you all right?”
“Yes,” she said, nodding quickly. “But I think —”
The crackling sound came again. This time the lights flared green, and bright sparks ran down Jaide’s arms into the stairs.
“Jack, I think something’s coming!”
What is it, Jaide?” asked Jack, staring up at her in alarm. “What’s happening?”
Jaide couldn’t have explained it even if she’d tried. It felt like the air just before a thunderstorm broke, only inside her, building up in every nerve and fiber. She felt full of energy, and it was tugging her, pulling her forward….
“Outside,” she said, trusting suddenly that instinct to move, hoping it wouldn’t let her blow up or anything. Tiny, glowing balls of blue light appeared on her first step. They followed her as she ran down the stairs, past Jack and the cats, to the ground floor.
“There you are,” said Susan, appearing in the hallway with an oven mitt on her right hand. “I was just about to —”
She stopped in amazement as Jaide rushed past her, glowing purple all over and trailing a spray of orbs and bright sparks. Jack, Kleo, and Ari raced after her in a clatter of feet and paws.
“I don’t know, either,” Jack answered her unspoken question as he hurried by. Susan followed, tugging off the oven mitt and picking up a walking stick from the umbrella stand by the front door.
Outside, it was dark and starless. Jaide came to a halt in the front yard and spun around once. She looked up at the weathervane, but it was motionless, pointing stolidly west in accordance with the wind, as normal weathervanes did. She ran along the side of the house to the backyard, which was dominated by a single tall tree that was known, on occasion, to change species. Currently it was a giant sequoia with thick roots clenched tightly just under the yard’s lumpy surface. There Jaide stopped. Above her, faint lights danced among the branches of the tree and thick black clouds roiled. There was no rain or wind, just the steady flashing of sheet lightning.
“Is it Dad?” Jack asked, sudden hope blossoming in his chest. Maybe he had come to make them feel better about being kicked out of the Grand Gathering. Maybe he had been kicked out, too.
“Is it Hector?” asked Susan, holding the walking stick upraised, like a club. The cats looked around them, tails swaying from side to side.
“I don’t know,” Jaide said, trying to take the measure of this strange new feeling. It was like being filled with electric lemonade and told not to burp. The sensation was building so fast it was almost painful. “It feels like him, but … different.”
“I think you should come inside,” said Susan, eyeing the clouds with misgiving. “It could be dangerous.”
Jaide was inclined to agree, although the strange feeling in her body didn’t want her to
She raised her foot to take a third step and a thick bolt of lightning struck down from the heavens into the earth just behind her. The sound of it was immense, a physical thing that threw her off her feet and into Susan, who dropped the walking stick and caught her in her arms. They both went down, leaving only Jack and the cats to see what happened next.
The lightning bolt didn’t vanish, as they normally did. This one stayed anchored to the earth, whipping and cracking all along its length, thin horizontal channels rippling up and down, connecting to the house, the tree, even Jack himself. He flinched but it had locked onto him before he could move, sending a weird fizz of energy down his body, from his ears to the soles of his feet. It lasted a second and left him smelling faintly of fireworks. Ari batted at it with his foreclaws, but the lightning was undeterred. Kleo stood stiff-legged and stiff-tailed, with eyes tightly closed, and shivered when it had passed.
There was a boom so loud it made the ground shake.
Then the lightning was gone, leaving a long purple afterimage from the top of Jack’s vision to the bottom.
“Jaide!” said Susan. “Are you all right?”
Jack was at his mother’s side instantly, helping Jaide upright. She brushed the hair from her eyes and blinked rapidly.
“I’m fine,” she said. “In fact, that was almost fun.”
“Fun?” said Susan. “You’re lucky to be alive. Inside, this minute, both of you.”
“I agree with your mother,” said Kleo. “The weather looks highly irregular.”
Behind them came the sound of a clearing throat.
“Hello? A little help here?”
They spun around. Jack’s vision cleared just enough to make out a teenage boy standing in a blackened circle in the center of the yard. His hair was dark and tightly curled, and although it was hard to tell exactly how old he was, or even how tall he was, he seemed about the same age as the twins. His legs were buried to the knees in the soil, which still sparked and shimmered with the force of his arrival.