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Authors: John Stephens
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chatter—“where can I get a coat?”
“Over on Bowery.”
“I thought I was in the Bowery!”
“I mean the street. Come on!”
The boys led her to the fire escape, a rickety, rusting skeleton flimsily attached to the side of the building, which they raced down pell-mell, setting up a great rattling and shaking. Kate hurried after them, certain that at any moment the whole contraption was going to break free of its moorings and plunge into the alley. A ladder at the bottom stopped nine feet off the ground, and the boys dangled from the last rung and dropped, landing catlike on their hands and feet. Kate did her best to follow suit, but found herself hanging in midair, unwilling to let go.
“Come on!” the boys yelled. “It ain’t far! Come on!”
She grunted in pain as her feet struck the frozen stones and a shudder passed through her ankles. She stood, the heels of her hands stinging.
“Finally,” Jake said. “I thought you were gonna set up house there or something.”
“Maybe open a shop, huh?” said Beetles.
“Yeah. The Hanging-at-the-End-of-the-Ladder-Too-Scared-to-Let-Go Shop!”
“You’re hilarious,” Kate said. “Just show me where to get a coat.”
They led her down the alley and across the street that Kate had seen from the roof of the building. Her sandaled feet sank deep into the drifts, and hard crusts of snow scratched her bare legs. She tried not to notice the stares she got, a girl in a thin dress in the middle of winter, and she followed her two guides down another alley and out into a street that was wider than thefirst and lined end to end with stalls. Throngs of darkly clad men and women milled between the ramshackle booths as vendors stood about, extolling the qualities of their goods in one language after another.
“This here’s Bowery,” said Beetles. “You can get a coat here.”
“I don’t—I don’t have any money.”
Now that they’d stopped moving, Kate was trembling badly.
“You got anything you can trade?” Jake asked. “What about that locket?”
Kate’s hand went to her throat, her numb fingers fumbling at the gold locket. Her mother had given her the locket the night their family had been separated.
“I … I can’t.…”
“What else you got?”
But Kate had nothing else. Her mother’s locket was the only valuable thing she owned. And she was freezing, literally freezing to death. She could ask for help from the people walking past, but that would require explanations: who she was, how she had come to be here.…
“The chain’s gold. I can trade the chain. But I’m keeping the locket.”
The boys took her to a mute old man who examined the chain, nodded, and gave Kate a shabby, moth-eaten coat and a wool hat. She pulled them both on, grateful, and her shaking began to subside.
“All right,” Jake said. “We helped you. Now you gotta come see Rafe.”
Again, Kate refused.
“Rafe ain’t gonna like it,” Beetles said.
“I really don’t care what Rafe likes.”
And she turned away down the line of stalls. She was still shivering slightly, the cold being very cold and her new coat and hat very thin and ragged; but she had held on to her mother’s locket and she was not going to freeze to death. That was all that mattered. So what if she couldn’t feel her toes?
Your problem now, she told herself, is getting home.
Her copy of the
Atlas
had disappeared because another copy already existed in this time. Kate knew where that copy was—far to the north, in the mountains surrounding Cambridge Falls, it was locked in a vault beneath the old dwarf city—and her first thought, back on the roof when she’d realized her situation, had been to make her way north and retrieve the book. But she’d quickly abandoned that plan. The copy in the vault had to be there for her and Michael to discover in the future. It felt strange to be protecting events that were still a hundred years off, events that in her mind had already taken
“Over on Bowery.”
“I thought I was in the Bowery!”
“I mean the street. Come on!”
The boys led her to the fire escape, a rickety, rusting skeleton flimsily attached to the side of the building, which they raced down pell-mell, setting up a great rattling and shaking. Kate hurried after them, certain that at any moment the whole contraption was going to break free of its moorings and plunge into the alley. A ladder at the bottom stopped nine feet off the ground, and the boys dangled from the last rung and dropped, landing catlike on their hands and feet. Kate did her best to follow suit, but found herself hanging in midair, unwilling to let go.
“Come on!” the boys yelled. “It ain’t far! Come on!”
She grunted in pain as her feet struck the frozen stones and a shudder passed through her ankles. She stood, the heels of her hands stinging.
“Finally,” Jake said. “I thought you were gonna set up house there or something.”
“Maybe open a shop, huh?” said Beetles.
“Yeah. The Hanging-at-the-End-of-the-Ladder-Too-Scared-to-Let-Go Shop!”
“You’re hilarious,” Kate said. “Just show me where to get a coat.”
They led her down the alley and across the street that Kate had seen from the roof of the building. Her sandaled feet sank deep into the drifts, and hard crusts of snow scratched her bare legs. She tried not to notice the stares she got, a girl in a thin dress in the middle of winter, and she followed her two guides down another alley and out into a street that was wider than thefirst and lined end to end with stalls. Throngs of darkly clad men and women milled between the ramshackle booths as vendors stood about, extolling the qualities of their goods in one language after another.
“This here’s Bowery,” said Beetles. “You can get a coat here.”
“I don’t—I don’t have any money.”
Now that they’d stopped moving, Kate was trembling badly.
“You got anything you can trade?” Jake asked. “What about that locket?”
Kate’s hand went to her throat, her numb fingers fumbling at the gold locket. Her mother had given her the locket the night their family had been separated.
“I … I can’t.…”
“What else you got?”
But Kate had nothing else. Her mother’s locket was the only valuable thing she owned. And she was freezing, literally freezing to death. She could ask for help from the people walking past, but that would require explanations: who she was, how she had come to be here.…
“The chain’s gold. I can trade the chain. But I’m keeping the locket.”
The boys took her to a mute old man who examined the chain, nodded, and gave Kate a shabby, moth-eaten coat and a wool hat. She pulled them both on, grateful, and her shaking began to subside.
“All right,” Jake said. “We helped you. Now you gotta come see Rafe.”
Again, Kate refused.
“Rafe ain’t gonna like it,” Beetles said.
“I really don’t care what Rafe likes.”
And she turned away down the line of stalls. She was still shivering slightly, the cold being very cold and her new coat and hat very thin and ragged; but she had held on to her mother’s locket and she was not going to freeze to death. That was all that mattered. So what if she couldn’t feel her toes?
Your problem now, she told herself, is getting home.
Her copy of the
Atlas
had disappeared because another copy already existed in this time. Kate knew where that copy was—far to the north, in the mountains surrounding Cambridge Falls, it was locked in a vault beneath the old dwarf city—and her first thought, back on the roof when she’d realized her situation, had been to make her way north and retrieve the book. But she’d quickly abandoned that plan. The copy in the vault had to be there for her and Michael to discover in the future. It felt strange to be protecting events that were still a hundred years off, events that in her mind had already taken
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