The Book of Nonsense (14 page)

“What boy? What?”

“
They're moving!
”

Rash's face began to tremble. “Emmet!” he cried, “read that spell! The last line on that page you've got.
EMMET!
”

“Okay,” Emmet finally answered, “where is it?”

“You dolt! Never mind, give it to the girl! It's only appropriate that she participate, anyway.”

With his mouth in a cold, hard line, Emmet handed
Videre Per Alterum
to Daphna.

“To think, we could have avoided all these absurdities if you two hadn't taken my ledger,” Rash sighed. “But, then, would we ever have had so much fun? Read me the last line, please. Just the first few words should be enough to jog my memory.”

Daphna hesitated. She was going to refuse, but she glanced at Dex, who nodded his head, subtly. It was too late now not to trust him. She read the first part of the line, three words that sounded Chinese.

Rash became agitated as soon as she began. “Of course!” he hooted. “Of course! I have it now. Thank you. Emmet, take the book back.” Daphna handed it over as Rash began intoning the words she'd read. He added a series of other, similar sounding words with his dead, cold eyes trained on Dex.

There was silence, and then Rash and Emmet and Dex were all rubbing their eyes.

Rash put his hands down and blinked at Dex, who was doing the same at him. The old man smiled wildly, exposing his rotten teeth. “Not such a handsome devil anymore, I see,” he laughed.

Daphna realized he was seeing himself

through her brother's eyes.

So that was it then.

“Look at the book, Dexter,” Rash commanded.

“Don't do it!” Daphna couldn't watch this anymore. She tried to stand, but Emmet was suddenly behind her with his hands like vice-grips crushing her shoulders.

Slowly, Dexter lowered his eyes to the pages lying open in his hands.

“Give it to me!” Rash screamed. He was struggling to his feet, erupting with delight.

Dex held the book out.

Daphna had no idea what had just happened. It seemed impossible.

“
THE BOOK!
” Rash exulted, “
AT LAST I FOUND IT!
” He lifted it up like a gladiator raising the severed head of a vanquished foe. A twisted grin contorted his face as he performed a gleeful dance behind his desk.

Daphna bulged her eyes at Dex, who bulged his eyes back, indicating that she should sit tight. What else could he do? They'd reached the end of his plan.

Finally, Rash finished his celebration and took his seat again. “You have pleased me, Dexter,” he said, breathing heavily, “and so I will indeed choose you. It is time for us to go. If you are lucky, it won't take the rest of your life to find what I seek in these pages. You have many long years ahead of you, and my time is not up yet!” Rash leaned back like he'd just eaten a sumptuous feast.

“You'll note, dear children,” he said, “that I am not completely without feeling. There is no need for Dexter to watch. It may scar. Emmet, my boy, at long last your time has come. Please take Ms. Wax out of the cubby and strangle her. Then go get the truck. We'll be leaving immediately.”

Daphna didn't hear the last part of these instructions. She'd fainted dead away. Emmet let go of her shoulders, letting her hit the floor like a waterlogged rag doll.

Dexter threw himself at Emmet, but seconds later he was on the floor, too, with a split lip and a black eye. His sister lay next to him, already coming to. Dex tried to say something, anything, but he couldn't talk with so much blood in his mouth.

Daphna was being dragged to her feet. “Nooo!” she was pleading. Dex was too disoriented even to know where she was.

Rash muttered something. The shelves swung open.

“Please no!” Daphna implored.

Rash muttered again. The shelves closed. Dex had managed only to sit up in a spinning room. He heard his sister begging for her life, but then her voice was gone.

“We're alone,” whispered Asterius Rash. He mumbled something, then said, “Take a seat, please, Dexter. Don't worry about your sister.”

Dex had tried to put his fingers back in his ears, but he didn't have the strength. And now, suddenly, he didn't have the will either. He got on all fours and hauled himself back into the chair.

“You are mine,” Rash cooed. “I am your master. How do you feel about that?”

“Sounds good, Mr. Rash,” Dexter managed to say, and he meant it.

“Fabulous! Are you ready to go?”

“Ready, Mr. Rash.”

“All right then. Let's just give Emmet another minute. Then we'll—”

Something slammed into the cubby. An entire shelf shook from the force of the blow.

“Emmet!” Rash howled, but the only answer was another terrific collision. The shelf shuddered, causing a look of rage and confusion on Rash's face. He clutched the book to his chest. “
EMMET!
” he demanded. “What's going on?”

CRASH!

Something rammed the shelves with incredible force. This time it was another unit, which shook ominously.

Someone, or something, was trying to get in. Rash shrieked a command, and the quaking shelves settled.

CRASH!

Another shelf jolted. Rash shrieked again, and again the shelf stabilized. Dex sat motionless through all this, dazed but feeling rather good.

An agonized wail sliced into the cubby then, followed by yet another crash. The shelf directly behind Rash tipped precariously forward, then teetered. It was going over!

Rash screamed at the shelf, but it was too late. The old man lunged from his seat just before the entire thing crashed over his desk.

On impact, books burst into the air, but Dex remained sitting calmly in his chair, both unfazed and, luckily, untouched. With mild interest, he noticed Emmet standing in place of the fallen shelves. He'd knocked down the wall of books and was preparing to do the same to another. Daphna was nowhere to be seen, but Dex wasn't worried about her.

“
AHHHH!
” Emmet screamed, ramming his bulk into the next shelf. This one came down easily.

“Move, boy!” Rash ordered. “Or you're going to get killed!” Dex dove from his chair, and before the third wall fell, he managed to crawl under Rash's desk.

“
AHHH!
” Emmet cried again.

CRASH!

Another wall fell.

Books were everywhere, and now there was smoke. Dexter definitely smelled smoke.

Fire!

Rash's candles had ignited the books. Within seconds, flames were swarming over the piles of old, brittle books strewn in all directions.

Dexter kicked debris from the opening under the desk and forced his way out into the store. How could the flames spread so quickly? Books looked as if they were spontaneously combusting. Smoke billowed, filling the air, and Dex couldn't keep it out of his lungs. But he had to find his master.

On a good day—on the best day—he'd have been lost quickly enough. In the stifling smoke and flames, Dex was lost instantaneously. Walls of flames turned him away from one path, then another and another. Choking, he staggered blindly among shelves, crashing into them here and there, knocking books free at every turn. Hurtling around a corner, Dex tripped, flew forward and landed flat on his chest. The air exploded out of him. His lungs felt like they'd been crushed. In the fetal position, he gasped for air. It was unbearable. It burned. But gradually, his breath returned.

Barely conscious, Dex got to his knees. The smoke and flames were gone. He was outside in the park, on the path, backed up against a tree. A ring of kids stood around him, pointing fingers and laughing. Dex swung at a boy with crazy red hair—was there a boy there? He missed and fell on his face. He got up, now with a large rock he'd grabbed. But it wasn't a rock—it was a book. Dexter threw it away. Emmet was there. What was he doing? He was talking to himself and throwing his shoulder against a set of bookshelves. But there were no bookshelves in the park. Then he disappeared into a cloud. When did it get so foggy in the park?

Dex resumed his stagger. He wheezed and gasped. He was lost, hopelessly lost. He was faltering, but found the strength to call out for his master. “Mr. Rash! Mr. Rash!”

It was hot, unreasonably hot.
Chaos!
Dexter's eyes burned. He could barely breathe. His throat felt scorched. Burning books were everywhere, everywhere. Where was he? “Mr. Rash! Mr. Rash!”

Dex fell to a knee, choking. The world began to fade like the background in a cartoon slowly being erased.

Hands grabbed, pulling him to his feet. Can't see. Can't
think
. Being rushed along. Left turns, right turns. They came too quickly to comprehend. The door! Outside!
Air!
At the urging of the hands that guided him, Dex stumbled across the street and collapsed on the sidewalk, coughing so hard he thought he'd loose his lungs. Sirens wailed in the distance.

“
Dex!
”

It was Daphna, her hair insane, her face blackened. Now she collapsed too, and brother and sister retched beside each other. The moment he thought he could, Dex tried to stand, but collapsed again calling, “Mr. Rash!”

“Dex!” Daphna said, looking into his hazy eyes. “He got you! He said you were going away with him! To be his new assistant!” Dex blinked, confused.

“Emmet!” Daphna choked. “I figured it out! Rash gave it away!” She fell into a coughing fit, then gasped out the rest of her explanation. “Something about the way Rash said he ‘picked' all his assistants made me think he might get them from orphanages. Emmet told me a lot of boys and girls were nice to him once, and that Rash told him it was only a dream. I was right! And he remembered!

“I told him Rash didn't have to hypnotize him. I mean, if you tell a kid his whole life he's a brainless animal who wants to kill someone—that's the same thing isn't it? His eyes got wide all of a sudden, and he let me go! Then his face went so sad. I—I don't know why—but I told him I knew he wasn't a bad person deep down, and then I—I hugged him. He looked at me all funny, and then he went berserk.
Look!
”

Dex, struggling to understand, looked back at the ABC. Somehow, Rash had made his way outside, too. He seemed unharmed, though he was hacking violently. His oncewhite beard was nearly black, and his robe was singed and smoking. The warehouse behind him was an inferno.

Rash looked around wildly, but then caught sight of himself from Dexter's eyes. “Thanks for showing me the way!” he thundered, laughing maniacally and patting his robe. He waved his precious book in the air. “I have all I need, Wax twits! And you can't hide from me, Dexter, unless you'd like to put your eyes out! There is nowhere you can go that I can't—”

Rash's eyes burst wide. Two arms, engulfed in flame, had grabbed him from behind. It was Emmet—Emmet on fire. With flames coiling and writhing over his entire body, he'd emerged from the shop behind Rash—a human figure of fire—and now he gripped his former master in a blazing bear hug.

Rash screamed, but Emmet simply lifted him off the ground like a toddler, turned and stepped back inside the store, which was no longer a store. It was mountain of fire. Seconds later, the front portion of the building collapsed.

“I've got the book!” Dex cried, pulling it free from his sweatshirt pocket.

Daphna saw that her brother's eyes were clear. “But how? What happ—? What should we do with it?”

“Ruby! She'll know what to do!”

“Go!” Daphna said. “I've got to see about Dad. I think he might be in the hospital.”

Dexter nodded fearfully at this news. He clambered woozily to his feet, but a moment later, he regained his bearings. A moment after that he was sprinting all-out for the Multnomah Village Rest and Rehabilitation Home.

As concerned for her father as she was, Daphna had to remain sitting on the sidewalk. She felt nauseated. Emmet really had been going to kill her. His huge, sweaty hands had been trembling with anticipation around her throat.

“You're dead now, girl,” he'd hissed through that gash of a mouth as he dragged her through the store. Daphna had no doubt whatsoever that he would've gone through with it had he not let go of her neck to get a better grip.

“Orphanage!” she'd blurted, and it stopped him long enough for her to deliver her newly formed theory. Then the hug. She'd been seconds away from dying!
What
did that mean?

The sirens were getting closer now. Daphna got up and managed to pull herself together enough to run toward home, but after a train of emergency vehicles passed by, she couldn't go on. She turned into an alley and sat down against a wall. Then she erupted into tears. How many times had she cried in the last twenty-four hours? This was different, though. Tears gushed from her eyes with an urgency she'd never experienced before. The fit she'd thrown after dinner the other night suddenly seemed but a childish tantrum. Even the tears she'd shed over Wren and Teal didn't compare. What she was doing now wasn't just crying, Daphna realized. She was
weeping
. She was weeping from a place she never knew existed inside, a place that recognized death—her own death. It was an adult place.

Daphna, her face streaked with dirt and smoke stains and tears, began to sigh with deep, soul-shaking relief. She knew she had to see to her dad. She needed to hug him.
That's
who she needed to hug.

She reached into her pocket, hoping to find a tissue, but what she found instead was the note from her mother. It had completely slipped her mind, and she hadn't even read it all! She opened it up and skipped to the part she hadn't read.

The story of this book and the story of my life is long. How I hope to be the one to share it with you! I can't imagine how you might learn the truth without me, but something inside tells me that you will.

You are thirteen today. I will ask your father to give you this note on this day should anything happen to me before it. Use this year to investigate. Search out the story of The First Tongue. Learn about The War of Words. Savor the triumph of The Eight. Do these things, and you will be prepared for whatever choices lay in your paths.

One more thing, children: if you learn the truth of my life, I beg you not to share it with your father. It would make it more difficult to let me go. The last thing I want is for Milton to waste his life chasing ghosts or grasping for what might be lost. Life is short, after all, no matter how long you live.

Love forever,

Your mother