The edge of everywhen, p.6
The Edge of Everywhen, page 6
The luminous whiteness of Phoenix’s pajama top was clearly visible through the Poison Ivy Parlor doorway into the Verboten Library. Phoenix was standing in the same spot as he was the first time Piper had caught him in there, his gaze riveted to the very center of the longest bookshelf a few feet in front of him. Piper tiptoed into the library and placed her stack of books on the floor before moving to stand by her brother.
Still staring at the books, Phoenix reached out to take his sister’s hand. My spine began to tingle and resonate with unread words, and Light and Truth and Story began to flow from within and seep out of my pages.
Piper blinked, and her mouth dropped open as she watched a pale blue light begin to pulse and grow, radiating out from the bookshelf into the air and flooding the room with Otherness.
I didn’t mean to frighten her, Dear Reader. But each time a New Story begins to bubble and rise and make itself known, my pages simply can’t hold it in.
Phoenix turned his head to look at Piper.
He really looked at her, directly into her eyes for several long seconds.
The last time he looked at Piper like that, he had been five years old.
Tonight his eyes had lost some of the amber color, a bright sparkling emerald taking over and visible in the whirl of bluish light. Piper felt like Phoenix could see all the way through to the inside of her brain.
He finally turned his head back toward the center shelf. His body was motionless, all traces of his usual rocking movements on pause as he stared and listened to me.
“I hear it,” Piper whispered. “I don’t know what it’s saying, though. Do you?”
Piper and Phoenix stood there in the whispering, swirling light for several minutes, breathing in the scent of thousands of pages in hundreds of leather and linen bindings around us all.
I wonder, Dear Reader, if you’ve ever heard about the chemistry of old books and the names of certain compounds that give them the sweet-dusty-almond-glue-and-ink-and-flower smell that so many Readers love. That unmistakable scent, ancient and new, filled the atmosphere of the library as Promise became a tangible thing.
Piper stepped closer to me as she fished the booklight from the front pocket of her hoodie with a trembling hand. The leather binding on my hardback spine was so worn that Piper had to twist the light back and forth to see what was once visible there, the remnant of a title embossed in faded gold letters.
“Novus Fabula,” she whispered, wrinkling her nose. “Is that Latin? What does that even mean?”
Phoenix let go of Piper’s hand, stepped forward, and pulled me from the off-limits shelf.
The room became dark again.
The whispering stopped.
“Phoenix,” Piper whispered sharply. “We’re not supposed to even be in here! If Aunt Beryl sees that a book is missing, there are exactly two people she’ll blame for stealing it!”
I feared that Phoenix was going to put his prize back on the shelf. Instead, he reached over to where Piper’s basement-rescued books were waiting on the floor and took the top one from the stack. Then he put that book in place of the one he had poached, the fat replacement filling the open space on the shelf perfectly. He pressed a crumpled note into his sister’s hand and moseyed upstairs with his plunder.
But Piper could not bring herself to leave just yet. Out of curiosity, she turned the booklight in the direction of the shelf to see which of her books Phoenix had selected for the stand-in. When she read the title, she stifled a laugh. Her brother had shelved Piper’s one and only copy of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.
Cryptic Ciphers
King Solomon says it be the glory of God to conceal a matter, but the honor of kings to seek it out. Crown or naught, ’tis you be such a king, my boy.
—Edwardus Padrick
Piper still stood in the Verboten Library, staring at the darkened bookshelf for several long moments with her mouth open.
Did that really just happen?
She pinched herself in the arm and winced.
Ow! Not sleepwalking.
The sleepiness and confusion were simply too much, so Piper shook her head, grabbed her books from the floor, and tiptoed upstairs to her room. Using her booklight, she deciphered the note Phoenix had just given her.
6-26-5, 47-22-6, 36-12-6, 99-5-6, 99-14-9, 24-22-3
Decoding the numbers took barely a minute.
“new story wanting to be read”
Then she made an entry in her diary before finally falling asleep.
Dear Dad, I really, really, really wish you were here so I could tell you about what just happened with me and Phoenix in Aunt Beryl’s library. Creepy but not creepy, like cool and magical. Sounds crazy, but I promise I’m not making it up!
Was Uncle Lonnie like some kind of magician or something? Because there’s this book. . . .
If you ever come home, I’ll try to explain it then, but I think this book might be enchanted or something. I don’t know. But I know Phoenix heard it too, so I’m not crazy.
Not to worry, Dear Reader. Piper and I will meet when the time is right.
The next morning Piper woke to the aroma of sausage. She dressed and brought her book-filled backpack downstairs and set it on the floor next to her as she sat at the breakfast bar. She was looking forward to spending the entire day reading her rescued books.
Aunt Beryl had breakfasted earlier and was already in her study. To Piper, Aunt Beryl’s absence was an enormous relief. Meals with Aunt Beryl were stiff and quiet and awkward because she didn’t believe in talking at the table.
The pungent scent of spicy sausage made Piper’s mouth water, and she watched Sofia carefully crack an egg into a small cast iron skillet. Producing a perfect sunny-side-up egg, Sofia turned the skillet upside down over a plate filled with crispy fried potatoes, onions, chorizo, and green peppers. She set the plate in front of Piper with a large glass of milk and said, “Chow time!”
Piper’s stomach rumbled with anticipation. The runny egg yolk infused the whole dish with a rich yellow sauce when she poked it with her fork, and she cleaned the plate in a matter of minutes. “You have to show me how to make this one day!” Piper said. “Will you teach me?”
Sofia grinned wide and said, “Absolutely! Any time you’re ready, just say the word.”
The chorizo was spicy enough to make Piper’s nose run, and the cold milk cooled it down nicely. “I’m not sure how Phoenix will feel about this breakfast,” she said. “He’s not big on spicy food.”
Phoenix came into the kitchen and took a seat at the breakfast bar. Piper smiled as she realized he was carrying the photo of Gordon she’d left on his nightstand the day before.
Phoenix put his nose directly over his breakfast plate and took several deep whiffs. He tried one bite of a fried potato, then pushed the plate toward Piper and put his head down on the table.
Sofia patted his shoulder and magically produced a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches she’d tucked away in the fridge. “Good job, Phoenix, trying a taste of some new stuff!” she said. “We’ll keep trying, and maybe we can find you some new favorites.” Sofia smiled as Phoenix started in on the sandwiches, but she left the breakfast plate nearby just in case.
Piper watched Phoenix enjoy his breakfast. Then her thoughts jumped from Phoenix to unpacking his room, to unpacking her room, to unpacking her father’s clock radio. Her stomach dropped to the ground when she remembered that while Sofia was helping her unpack yesterday, Piper had shoved that old cipher note into her jeans pocket and forgotten about it.
Piper swallowed hard. “Today is laundry day, isn’t it?” she asked.
Sofia nodded. “Yep. Last of your stuff went in the wash just a few minutes—”
Piper jumped from the stool and flew up the service stairs two-by-two. (It was hard, Dear Reader, to always remember the No Running in the House rule.) She wrenched open the washing machine lid and saw her jeans on the top, almost fully immersed in the sudsy water. She pulled the jeans from the water and found the note in the back pocket, relieved nearly to tears that it was just a little damp. She closed the washer and took the note downstairs to decode. “Saved it!” she said triumphantly as she smoothed it out on the breakfast bar.
Sofia laughed. “Acting like you were chased by a hornet!” She squinted at Piper’s note and said, “What’s that? Some sort of numbers game, or a math thingy?”
Piper nodded. “It’s kind of like a numbers game, I guess. It’s from Phoenix, and this one was from our old house back in Atlanta. I unpacked it yesterday but forgot about it in my pocket.”
Sofia said, “Close one!” She shook her head and said, “I gotta remember to check pockets from now on.”
Piper sat back down on the stool and fished The Giver out of her backpack, decoding the cipher as she finished her milk.
8-8-3, 41-8-3, 156-26-8, 171-6-2, 100-17-1
She looked at the words she had deciphered.
“Mother will go into light”
She double checked the pages, lines, and word numbers to make sure she had read them correctly.
“Mother will go into light”
Of course, she did. She died, and she went into the Light, and that’s what everybody says happens when—
Wait.
Piper stared at the note in her hand, and her vision went blurry as tears of wonder and disbelief welled up in her eyes.
Phoenix had written this note some time before dinner that awful day back in March, many weeks and miles and a lifetime ago. Naomi had called from work about nine to tell Phoenix and Piper good night before the thunderstorms had even started, but the note was already in Piper’s bedroom by then. She clearly remembered moving the still-unread cipher note aside to look at the time on her clock radio when Naomi called home, like she always did, to say goodnight prayers with both of them over the phone.
Phoenix knew.
Before it had happened, Phoenix knew.
Verboten, Invaded
The books didn’t want to be dusted; they wanted to be devoured.
—Tajana Baird
Phoenix?” Piper whispered, searching his face for something that would clue her in as to how he could have known ahead of time.
Piper couldn’t see that I was hiding under her little brother’s shirt. Phoenix took a long chug of milk and stuffed Gordon’s photo into his pocket. Then he reached under his shirt and pulled me out onto the counter. I found myself next to Piper’s elbow, and her words escaped her.
After being filched from the off-limits library, I had stayed up all night with young Phoenix, Dear Reader. He knew my secrets now, cover to cover. And I knew his.
Sofia had been busy at the sink this whole time, so she hadn’t seen Piper’s astonished expression, or me, or the faint aura of pale blue light hovering in the air above the breakfast bar. Piper leaned over, grabbed me, and covered me with her crossed arms, intending to return me to my spot in the Verboten Library later that night when everyone was asleep.
You may wonder, Dear Reader, why Piper didn’t take me to her room to read straightaway. With all of the ups and downs she’d faced since her arrival in Maine, her sturdy little soul was weary, and confused, and afraid. After all, it is a bit odd to hear a book whisper and see it glow. I didn’t mind waiting. Piper knew I was special, and she would also know when the time was right.
Phoenix wiped the milk from his upper lip and turned his whole body to look at Piper, straight into her eyes, for the second time in as many days. He leaned forward and slipped yet another of his scribbled notes into her palm.
Sofia turned from the sink with her hands on her hips and looked at Phoenix as she asked, “Did you get enough to eat, kiddo?”
Phoenix pulled the untouched breakfast plate toward him and took another long whiff. He picked up another fried potato and popped it into his mouth, then pushed the plate toward Sofia as he chewed and swallowed. Sofia cleared the dishes, oblivious that Phoenix was doing things Piper hadn’t seen him do in several years.
Still trying to make sense of everything that was happening, Piper completely forgot about the backpack on the floor as she stood and tucked me nonchalantly under her arm. “I think we’ll go find a place to read for a while,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t betray the fact that she was aiding a thief and concealing stolen property. “You coming, Phoenix?” she asked, walking to the doorway of the kitchen and nodding her head forcefully in the direction of the hall. Phoenix followed.
The children walked in silence down the hall, and I began to speak to Piper again. I knew deep in my spine that Piper needed to hear the story I had for her.
Piper was sure the whispers were echoing loudly enough for everyone in the house to hear, and she was afraid someone could see the pale blue light shimmering in the air. She stopped in the middle of the hallway and pressed my front cover against her ear as she tried to tune in to the Story that floated from the binding. It seemed that Piper could almost make out words, but they were just beyond her grasp, like chasing a piece of a dream that is out of memory’s reach.
The front doorbell chimed.
Piper heard the front door open, followed by the pleasant Bing—Bong—Bing alarm. Mr. Greene’s most professional butler-voice said, “May I help you?”
“Ashley Carrington of Carrington Designs,” said a harsh, nasally voice. “I have an appointment with Ms. Bouchard.” The children heard high heels clicking on the hardwood floors of the entryway, and Piper grabbed her brother’s hand instinctively.
“Good morning, Miss Carrington.” Aunt Beryl’s voice responded from somewhere above their heads. Piper could tell that Aunt Beryl was coming down the main staircase.
If she catches me with this book in my hand and sees that it’s one of hers, we’re dead meat!
Dragging Phoenix along, Piper ducked left under the second archway and tiptoed into the Halls of Moria. Assuming Aunt Beryl would take Ashley Carrington of Carrington Designs upstairs to the study, Piper pulled Phoenix along behind her through the Great Hall, past the giant fireplace, and around the corner into the Verboten Library. The marble floors and high walls of Moria, combined with the openness of the main staircase and the archways, caused voices to echo and travel and bounce around, leaving Piper bewildered. She heard voices and had no clue where they were coming from.
The nasally voice sounded again, growing louder and closer. “You received the design packet I sent out last week?”
Piper stood next to Phoenix in the middle of the Verboten Library and remembered back to the day they had arrived. Aunt Beryl had said something about remodeling.
They’re coming in here!
Piper suddenly adored the hideous floor-length draperies that Aunt Beryl employed at each of the four library windows. The children slipped behind one of the thick fleur-de-lis curtains seconds before Aunt Beryl and Ashley Carrington of Carrington Designs came into the library from the Poison Ivy Parlor.
“Yes, I did receive it,” Aunt Beryl said. “Everything appears in order, and I am ready to move forward with the project.”
Dear Reader, you should know, that although I’d spoken and called her name for decades, Beryl Bouchard had not yet heard me. This broke my heart, but I would continue to try, with the knowledge that I did have a story to tell her. She would hear me when she was ready.
“Wonderful,” crowed Ashley Carrington of Carrington Designs. “I see you already have a fully stocked library, but you mentioned on the phone that you were interested in the Books by the Inch program. The books we’ll provide for this project are simply stunning, and we can supplement with volumes we’ll order from the Beguiling Bookshelf Company. Are you still leaning toward that option?”
“Yes,” Aunt Beryl replied curtly. The two women walked through the library, unwittingly coming nearer to the children’s hideout. “These old books are all different shapes and colors and sizes, and they are terribly messy, with no symmetry whatsoever. You said the books will all match?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am,” gushed Ashley Carrington of Carrington Designs. “Books by the Inch are identically matched for size and binding color to your specifications, and we have a wide variety of spine and title color options for you to choose. I’m sure you’ll be pleased with how symmetrical and tidy the whole library will look when the installation is complete.”
Symmetrical? Tidy?! Libraries aren’t supposed to be symmetrical and tidy! That’s like saying every flower in the world has to be the same shape and color! It’s like telling all the people on earth that they have to be the same weight and skin color and height and wear the same clothes as everyone else, and telling all those same people they can’t get dirty or take detours or visit new cities or get lost. No two people are alike, and no two books are alike either!
I must say that I agree with Piper wholeheartedly, Dear Reader.
The two adult voices were moving away from the curtained hiding place. Phoenix stood motionless, staring straight ahead at the back of the curtain panel as if nothing was amiss.
The sharp voice of Ashley Carrington of Carrington Designs continued. “The new books will all be bound in the finest leather, with each title embossed on the spine in gold or silver; your choice. Do you have any preference as to subject matter? Classics? Biographies?”
“It makes no difference,” Aunt Beryl replied. “They will only serve as decoration.”
Who has space for this many books and doesn’t plan to read them?
Piper found herself liking the newcomer less and less.
“Wonderful,” cooed Ashley Carrington of Carrington Designs. “Our proposal includes leaving all these gorgeous built-in shelves as they are. May I ask what your plans are for the existing collection? I see a number of high-quality antiques and first editions on the shelves. Perhaps you’re planning an estate sale, or an auction for the rare book collector?”
