Pile of Bones (27 page)

“Look—” Carl’s smile was reassuring. “I think you’re overtired, and coming down from some serious drugs. Your mind’s running a bit hot. That’s all.”

“It always runs hot.”

“I know. Let’s cool it with the coffee for now. What you actually need is some sleep.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Sure. But once all that syrup-soaked bread does its work, you’ll be crashing with the rest of us. In the meantime, let’s get you away from the tub.”

“You’re talking to me like I’m crazy. I’m not.”

“I didn’t use that word. I just think you’re a little ragged from the stress of last night.”

“Everyone’s thinking it,” he muttered.

“You know,” Ingrid said, “when I first had Neil, I thought I might be going crazy. I’d wander around the house, trying not to cry or set fire to something. My brain felt like mashed potatoes. I walked into walls. Turns out, I was just sleep-deprived.”

“Did you see things that weren’t there?”

“All the time. Once, I thought the oven was criticizing me. Paul came home, and I was bawling in the kitchen, saying, ‘You don’t know me,’ to all of the appliances.”

“I guess”—he rose slowly—“my mind could be playing tricks on me.”

Neil handed him the red Angry Bird. “Keep him in your pocket,” he said. “This sweet one has no bubble.”

“Thank you.”

“Let’s go watch some more TV,” Carl said. “They’ve got so many cartoons. How would you feel about
The Purple Crayon
?”

They made their way out of the bathroom. Ingrid and Shelby exchanged a look.

“Did you really see things?”

“I might have. I was half-crazy.”

“Thanks for not—you know—”

“What?”

“Freaking him out more.”

“I spend most of my time putting out little fires.” Ingrid lifted Neil into her arms. “How about we find you some pants?”

“I want to wear my footie pajamas.”

“Please. This is the one standard that we’ve been able to uphold. Wear the pants, and I’ll let you pick the shirt.”

He wouldn’t stop moving as she tried to dress him. Ingrid surveyed his bedroom as she wrangled him into the pants. It looked as if the children’s section of the library had exploded. There were
Magic School Bus
and
IQ.
books everywhere. The walls were covered in space posters and volcanic diagrams. The dinosaur phase had passed, but the interstellar phase was still going strong. Ingrid wondered what would be next. She couldn’t imagine a night without cellophane and construction paper. When would he stop asking for bedtime stories? She’d always hoped that their nightly dialogue would continue long after he’d grown up. She could read to him over Skype, or whatever holographic technology existed by that point. “You’re doing it wrong,” he’d say, as she acted out Thing One and Thing Two. “You changed a word. Now we have to start from the beginning.”

“What do you think you will be,” she asked, “when you grow up?”

“Old,” he said, one arm in his shirt. “Like you and Uncle Paul.”

“I guess I had that answer coming. Okay. Let’s brush your teeth. We have to get rid of all those sugar bugs.”

“
French
toast does not make sugar bugs.”

“What does it make?”

“Antigravity.”

“In your mouth?”

“Isn’t that fun?”

“We’re still brushing your teeth.”

After rinsing and inspecting his mouth for antigravity, they returned to the living room. Paul had already packed his bag.

“I’ll take him to day care,” he said.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind driving.”

“No. Stay with your friends. I’ve got some errands to run.”

“You’re weirded out.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. I can tell.” She lowered her voice. “I know you weren’t expecting this. When you get home, I promise the house will be a drama-free zone. You can eat chips, watch
Archer
, then have a fierce nap.”

“It’s really fine.” He took Neil’s hand. “Ready for day care?”

“I want to stay here.”

“There’s candy in the car.”

He ran for the door.

“Parenting,” Paul said. “We’re so on top of it.”

“Don’t you have a kiss for your mummy?” Ingrid asked.

He blew her one. “Good-bye!”

“Have fun,” Paul said. “Relax. Remember how to do that?”

“It’s all hazy. Like prom.”

He opened the door and led Neil down the front steps. Ingrid watched them walk to the car. Neil was talking animatedly while Paul strapped him into the booster seat. He was probably listing the virtues of his birds.
They are brave, and loyal, and real.
She waited for them to drive away. Then she closed the door, feeling as if something had just floated away from her. Some brilliant kite with makeshift tail feathers,
caught by a sudden gust of wind. For a moment, she wanted to run down the driveway.
Come back. Stop all this leaving, this growing. Every time you come back to me, some precious little flake of you has changed.

Ingrid walked back to the living room. “Shelby—can you help me with something in the office? My computer is being a dick.”

Andrew’s expression brightened. “I can probably fix it.”

“It’s like—a desktop issue—with the color palettes? I think it requires—”

Shelby got up. “Don’t explain it. You’ll only entice him.”

“I don’t mind—” Andrew began.

“Stay on this couch until your atoms stop vibrating.”

“Fine.”

“There are more DVDs,” Ingrid said, gesturing vaguely around the room. “And lots of
Star Wars
Lego, if that’s your thing.”

“Are you kidding?” Carl grinned. “That’s everybody’s thing.”

Shelby followed her into the office.

“Color palettes?”

“I panicked.”

“This is the opposite of subtle.”

“I think we passed subtle when he saw an undina in my bathtub.”

Shelby’s eyes widened. “You really think he saw one?”

“It’s possible. I mean, the three of us can all use the park as a sort of viaduct between worlds. I don’t see why the lares couldn’t do the same thing.”

“I thought they were connected to that place. That it was their chaos, or whatever. How could they survive here?”

“Sometimes I’m not even sure how
we
survive here.”

Shelby sat down in the office chair. “If he did see it—what would that mean?”

“I really don’t know.”

She spun the chair in a slow circle, the same way that Neil did when he was waiting for something to load. They were both silent for a beat.

“I can’t believe how close he was,” Shelby said. “He walked right into the hospital room, and you were the only one who noticed.”

“Not right away. It actually took me a while.”

“He knows where Andrew lives. All of those forms—” Shelby shook her head. “We’re practically giving them an invitation.”

“There must be rules,” Ingrid said, although she didn’t quite believe the words. “They can’t just attack us. Mardian has a job in this world. He has to keep his distance.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Of course I don’t. Haven’t you figured out that I’m making this up as I go along? I saw the spado, and my gut said:
Run.
So here we are. I don’t have any more answers.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push. I’m just trying not to lose it.”

Ingrid smiled. “Losing it isn’t so bad. Sometimes, it feels great.”

“I’ll remember that advice when I’m doing my comps.”

“Don’t even think about those. You’ve got plenty of time.”

The doorbell rang.

Shelby sighed. “Neil must have made him come back for something. He always leaves the car running. I’ll be right back.”

“I should come with you. It’ll look strange if I stay in the office.”

“I don’t know. They seem pretty absorbed in their cartoons.”

Ingrid walked down the hallway. Andrew looked as if he were about to nod off. Carl, however, was staring in the direction of the front door.

“It’s just Paul,” she said. “Neil can be a pint-sized tyrant. He once made us come home three times, because he needed the right hat.”

She opened the door, fully expecting to see her son, gesticulating about whatever crucial object he’d left behind. It wasn’t Neil, though.

It was him.

Her eyes widened. The last time she’d seen him outside Anfractus, he was naked and shivering in front of a gazebo. She remembered his dark hair, though, and the shallow track of his scar. He was wearing a long jacket and boots. He smiled, almost shyly.

“Hello, Ingrid.”

She stepped outside and closed the door behind them.

“What are you doing here?”

“I should think it’s obvious.”

“I told you to stay away.”

“You need my help.”

“I think you’ve done enough. We can take it from here.”

“You’re being watched from all sides. And in case you’ve forgotten, I was the one who got you out of the city.”

“Sure. You arrived just in time.”

He stared at her. “What are you trying to suggest?”

“Don’t play wounded meretrix with me. I’ve known you for too long. You always seem to choose the winning side.”

“I’m here because I care about you.”

“You’re here to protect your investment.”

He started to say something, but stopped. They stared at each other. Ingrid was suddenly aware of the fact that she hadn’t put shoes on. Her feet were freezing.

“How is he?”

“The auditor? He’s dead.”

“I meant—”

“I know who you meant. We’re not talking about him.”

He sighed. “It shouldn’t be this way.”

“Oh no? What’s your alternative?”

“We’ve already talked about that.”

“It’s not going to happen. Our life is here.”

“You need to make a choice.”

“Actually, I don’t think you get to tell me what I need. You left.”

“I’m here now.”

“For how long? A few hours? He needs more than that.”

“Is he—”

“No.”

The door opened. Carl stood in the entrance.

“Is everything all right?”

“It’s fine,” Ingrid said. “He’s a friend. We’re just talking.”

Carl frowned. “Have we met?”

The man smiled. “I believe so.”

“I know you from somewhere. I can’t place it, though.”

He extended his hand. “Oliver.”

“Carl.”

“Nice to see you again, Carl.”

“Where did we meet?”

Ingrid gave Oliver a sharp look. “You’re right—it’s cold. Who wants tea?”

“I probably looked different,” he replied. “I was wearing a mask.”

“You—” Carl’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit—”

“Everyone inside, now,” Ingrid snapped.

They all walked into the living room. She closed the door and locked it.

“That won’t do much,” Oliver said.

“It makes me feel better.”

Shelby was sitting on the couch with Andrew. “Hello,” she said, uncertainly.

Oliver didn’t reply. He was looking around the room. His eyes fell on the puzzle, and he smiled slightly but said nothing.

Andrew stood up. Oliver saw him, and waved. It was an odd gesture.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better,” Andrew said. “Do we know each other?”

“Andrew—” Carl looked as if he wanted to step forward, but he didn’t.

Oliver looked at him for a long moment. Then he shook his head. “No. But Ingrid told me about what happened to you.”

“Oh. Right.” He shrugged. “I’m okay now.”

“I’m glad.”

“How do you know Ingrid?”

“We’re old friends,” Oliver said. “We used to live in the same neighborhood.”

“Are you from Regina?”

“Originally. I’ve moved around, though.”

“How fortunate,” Carl said. “Shelby, don’t you think that’s
fortunate
?”

She frowned. “I guess.”

“It’s just such good luck. Being able to travel.”

Shelby took another look at Oliver. Comprehension spread across her face. She almost said something, but it came out as more of a high-pitched sound.

“What’s going on?” Andrew folded his arms.

“Oliver—” Carl began.

“—is my supervisor.” Ingrid laughed. “We’re friends, but he’s also my supervisor. Isn’t that crazy?”

Andrew frowned. “You work in the Department of Education?”

“I’m more of an external.”

“He’s here because—I was supposed to give him the latest chapter of my dissertation, but I forgot. Mashed potato brain. Just like I told you.”

“You could print out the chapter at school,” Oliver said.

“I have my own printer.”

“Doesn’t the one at school cost less?”

“Right.” She blinked. “Let’s…all go to the library.”

“Are we in the dreamatorium?” Andrew asked. “That would explain why everyone’s being so weird.”

“I’ll get my flash drive,” Ingrid said. “Shelby, can we take your truck?”

“It’s going to be snug. Unless Oliver has a car.”

“I walked.”

Ingrid grabbed his arm. “Come help me find this chapter.”

He followed her down the hallway.

Andrew watched them go. His eyes narrowed in confusion. “My supervisor would never make a house call.”

“It’s Education,” Carl said. “Nobody can figure them out.”

T
HE WIND WAS STIRRING AS THEY PARKED
. The lots were empty on the weekend, and Shelby was able to find a spot close to the main entrance. They filed silently out of her truck. Ingrid had tried to start a conversation on the way, but she couldn’t manage to spark anything. Shelby kept her eyes on the road, while Andrew stared out the window, hypnotized by the painted lines. Carl kept throwing desultory glances at Oliver but never actually spoke. Ingrid sat between them, trying not to scream. None of this made any sense. They had no reason to trust Oliver. His shadow may have saved them, but Ingrid still felt that his appearance had been all too convenient.

Domina Pendelia told me not to trust him. Of course, she was jealous. But that doesn’t mean her suspicions were off the mark.

Felix had always seemed like a plain dealer. He paid well, and his basia was known for its high standards. But meretrices had a way of rolling the dice when you least expected it. The mask concealed their loyalties. As for Oliver—she trusted him even less. They weren’t the same, but Ingrid knew that they shared certain annoying qualities. He’d been lying for so long that it was effortless to him, like sealing an envelope.

They crossed the parking lot and entered through the Innovation Centre. All of the food kiosks were asleep behind bars. Only a few students remained in the cafeteria, pounding back coffee to get through whatever they were studying. New textbooks gleamed in their hands, with bright covers and optimistic titles. Highlighters moved like knitting needles, back and forth, separating the anecdotal from the essential. They walked past the posters advertising bake sales, concerts, and yoga for academics. Ingrid wasn’t used to hearing her own footsteps. Normally, this part of campus was an explosion of sound, wave upon wave of students running to keep up with their own schedules. Now the halls were practically empty. She looked at the face of the dead clock next to the bookstore. The minute hand seemed to tremble. When she blinked and looked again, the hand was still.

The elevator next to it chimed. The doors opened, and three students in pajamas filed out. They approached the nearest vending machine, staring at it with a unified sense of disappointment. The first student deposited a toonie, but couldn’t decide what to get. Her fingers hovered over the numeric keypad, as if she were afraid to touch the buttons.

“Stay away from the giant cookie,” Ingrid said. “I think it’s full of toxins.”

The girl looked right through her.

Ingrid started to say something else, but instead, she kept walking. Moments like this reminded her that she was surrounded by kids fresh from high school, teenagers who operated on an entirely different frequency. All they saw when they looked at her was a cautionary tale. Next to them, she felt like an old Nintendo cartridge. It was only a matter of time until they mounted their phones with laser cannons that would disintegrate her. This was their world. She wanted to know more, to learn their language, but her fingers weren’t fast enough.

Shelby was smiling at her.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Just—what you said back there, to the girl. It was funny.”

“Those cookies really are bad news.”

“I believe it. Most of the food on campus is potentially dangerous.”

“The soup isn’t bad,” Andrew said. “If you like hybrids.”

They entered the library. Only a few students were working at the computers. There was no one behind the counter. The first floor had been under construction for months, but she had no idea what they were actually building. The space behind the computers was covered in a plastic tarp, which rippled slightly beneath the air-conditioning.

“We can use the printer on the fifth floor,” Oliver said. “It’s newer, but people forget about it, because it’s hidden.”

“I didn’t even know it existed,” Andrew replied.

“See? Follow me.”

They squeezed into the elevator. Oliver pressed 5, and the doors closed.

“Wait,” he said. “I just remembered—”

Ingrid didn’t like where this was going. “What is it?”

“There’s a book that I need.” He pressed 4. “We can get it on the way.”

They reached the fourth floor. The doors slid open.

Oliver started to walk out, then stopped. “It’s in the oversize section. There’s this one part that always confuses me. The call number is N 5754, and I can never remember where to find that section. It’s tucked away in a corner—is it on the east side?”

“I know exactly where it is,” Andrew said. “On the west side, by the study tables. If you want, I can grab it for you.”

Oliver smiled. “You’re probably faster than I am. Sure. Go ahead.”

Andrew’s face brightened now that he had a mission. “Okay, I’ll be right back.”

He turned left and disappeared into the stacks.

Oliver waited a few seconds. Then he turned to Ingrid.

“Hold the door.”

“What are you doing?”

He walked over to the computer next to the door. On the wall next to it was a security panel. Oliver flipped open the panel and hit a sequence of keys. Ingrid heard a beep, then a loud click from the door. She stared at him as he stepped back into the elevator.

“What did you just do?”

Oliver let the doors close. Then he reached down and entered a code on the silver keypad, next to the emergency call button. Ingrid had always been curious about that keypad, assuming that it had something to do with maintenance. The elevator chimed once, then began to rise.

“We just left Andrew on the fourth floor,” Carl said.

“I know.”

Carl glared at him. “That was your plan all along.”

“He’ll be safe there. I’ve locked the doors and programmed the elevator to skip that floor. It’s the best protection I can offer him.”

“You can’t just leave him there.”

“He’s safer in quarantine.”

“He’s scared and alone!”

“Did you have a better idea? Telling him the truth, perhaps?”

“I have a more pressing question,” Ingrid said. “How the hell did you figure out the security codes for this building?”

Oliver squared his shoulders. “Don’t underestimate a former librarian.”

They reached the fifth floor. The doors opened, and Oliver stepped out.

“Now we’re just supposed to follow you?” Shelby asked. “After you go all
Die Hard Library
and trap our friend in the oversize book section?”

“Mardian is coming. We need weapons.”

“He’s coming for us—not you. Why are you even here?”

“I guess I was just homesick. We can stand around trying to puzzle out my motives, or we can arm ourselves. Your choice.”

“There are weapons in the library?” Carl asked.

“Thousands of them. Now let’s go.”

Ingrid stopped in the hallway. “Okay. This is a little insane. Not the part about the cache of weapons, because I understand that librarians are prepared for anything. But what exactly are we doing here? None of us know how to fight.”

“You’re a single mother,” Oliver said. “You’ve been fighting ever since—”

She raised a hand to stop him. “Spare me the empowering speech. You know what I’m talking about. On this side of the park, I can’t fight with a sword. I barely have the strength to wrangle my son into a pair of pants.” She looked at Shelby and Carl. “What about the two of you? Did you attend any combat training sessions as part of your TA orientation?”

“I think I missed that workshop,” Shelby said. “And Carl’s never been in a fight.”

“That’s not true. In the second grade, I punched a kid in the ear. He tried to steal my
Transformers
thermos.”

“You may not know how to fight with a blade,” Oliver said, “or string a bow, or—” He glanced at Carl and frowned. “What sort of weapon does a trovador use?”

“I can swing a short sword in a wide arc. Like a semideadly sprinkler.”

“Fine. The point is—”

“—that we should call the police and get a restraining order,” Shelby said, cutting him off. “No spadones or creepy nurses within a hundred meters of us. That has to work. I mean, we could say that he drugged Andrew, that he was—I don’t know—giving off a
Single White Eunuch
vibe or something, whatever.”

“The police are on his side. Detectives, firemen, crime-scene investigators, they’re all connected to the park. They’re all playing. Some of them might help us, but even more would destroy us for the chance of getting ahead. Mardian serves the basilissa, and now that she’s put a price on your heads, you won’t be safe.”

“Why are we listening to him?” Carl asked. “Has everyone
forgotten how he disappeared after things got bloody at the basilissa’s party?”

“He did help us escape,” Ingrid said. “And—” She hesitated. “He does have a lot to lose by allying himself with us.”

Carl shook his head. “No. There’s something sketchy going on between the two of you. He’s supposed to be your supervisor, but a minute ago, he said he was a former librarian. He knows way too much about this building, and you didn’t even look surprised when he showed up at your door. How do you really know each other?”

Ingrid started to say something, but Oliver cut her off.

“We’re all connected. That’s what I’ve been trying to explain. We each cast a shadow that stretches from one side of the park to the other. You may not know how to fight, but your shadow does. If I put a bow in Shelby’s hand, Morgan is going to wake up. Maybe just a little, but enough to make Shelby remember what she knows.”

“Does that make you a slut in both worlds?” Carl asked.

Oliver ignored him. “All those rules about ‘parking,’ all the secrets that we keep, they’re designed to isolate us. If we’re going to survive, we need to erase the margins.”

“Ingrid—” Shelby looked at her. “You should leave.”

“I think it’s a bit late for that.”

“For us, maybe. We knew what we were getting into. We just wanted a real quest. Now it looks like we’re about to get the sharp end of this adventure. But you’re barely involved. You can still leave. For Neil’s sake.”

She was right. For a moment, Ingrid considered the possibilities. She and Paul could move to Saskatoon, or Moose Jaw—some place that wasn’t on the edge of the basilissa’s territory. She could transfer her degree to another school, make new friends. Paul would be disappointed, but he loved them both. He would do the right thing. And Neil? He loved Regina. Not in spite of its long winter, but because of it. When she complained about the snow, he reminded her, sagely:
We are mammals. We are warm-blooded.
He adored the living skies, the moon that seemed impossibly round,
like a pearl loosed from a titan’s necklace. He crowed in delight to see his frosty breath and loved to drag twin sleeping bags onto the deck for stargazing. Eventually, he would adjust to a new preschool, a new cycle of suburban activities.

But it didn’t seem right. Without the park, he never would have existed. Fel had carried him inside her. Even when he was barely a wisp of cells, she’d carried him through the dangerous alleys of Anfractus. He was the size of a kidney bean when she left Domina Pendelia’s house to work for the basia. He had no idea of what he’d seen. He was with her when she fought in the Hippodrome, and later, when she guarded Felix’s door. Once, he had kicked while she was putting on her lorica.
I’m here.
The message filled her, and she stopped, fingers suddenly nerveless, unable to manage the leather ties and metal clasps. There was no guarantee that he would ever see the park like she did. Fortuna had no respect for genetics. He could grow up without the faintest idea of where he’d once been. Yet Anfractus belonged to him. Like a wave, it had carried him forward. With tiny eyes shut and fists curled, all unawares, Neil had danced through its blind corners. Now she owed him the possibility of return.

“It’s for his sake that I have to fight,” she said. “Because, someday, he might remember the way back. I’m not about to let a mad queen or anyone else stand in his way. Now—where are these weapons you keep talking about?”

Oliver smiled slightly. “Follow me.”

They continued down the hallway, past closed doors with embossed nameplates. Most of the administrative staff went home on Thursday, due to cutbacks. It was only a small band of librarians who kept the place alive. If not for graduate students and faculty searching for periodicals, the library would have had no reason to stay open. At first, Ingrid had been dismayed to realize that students in the Department of Education weren’t exactly keen to visit the stacks. They downloaded most of the books and were mystified by the shelving system. What was the point in wandering through a building when you could simply read a text online? Why touch books at all? They were dusty little outpatients with
yellowing tape around their spines. The text couldn’t be magnified, and there were no links that led you anywhere else.

She’d grown up in libraries and loved everything about them: the generous silence, the gliding of carts, the bright covers that winked at her from tall shelves. Getting her first library card had been infinitely more exciting than getting her driver’s license. When she was a child, the computers had seemed out of place. They were slow, hot, humming versions of card catalogs, with sticky keyboards and aching blue letters that trembled when you looked at them. Like foldout maps, they were something to be consulted as a last resort. But as she grew, so did the computers. They got faster and smarter, learned new tricks, wider skill sets. What they provided was incredibly useful: a glossa for everything, a dramatis personae, a family tree whose root system was endless. They gave directions. There was no longer a reason to wander, to let your eyes drift from one book to another. Now you could find what you were looking for, scan it through the self-checkout, and leave. It was like buying groceries.

They reached the door marked
Special Collections
. Oliver opened it with a key and beckoned them in. The room was still and smelled of old paper. There was a long table in the center and filing cabinets along the back wall. Scanned images from the archives were framed and hung on the walls. The women’s hockey team from 1925, their skirts nearly touching the snow. One held her stick at a curious angle, as if it were an oar. Behind them was a squat cluster of buildings, surrounded by white. There was also artwork by the Regina Five and more photographs from the university’s past.