Spinebreaker (Library Gate Series Book 2) Read online

  Then the blasts faded, leaving trails and clouds of smoke that slowly drifted down towards the ground.

  “I’m never going to see him again.”

  “Rico...”

  Before she could think of something to say—really, what words were there?—he rose from the table and ran off into the dark.

  “Rico!” By the time she managed to stand he was gone. She ran after him, stopping in front of a building with the smell of baking bread wafting from it—the bakery. Rico had said he’d helped carry bread from a bakery. Inside, an older groundling woman was cleaning.

  When she saw April, she yelled, “We’re closed.”

  “The boy who was helping you carry bread earlier… have you seen him?”

  The woman shrugged. “Run off, has he? Tryin’ to shirk cleanup duty, no doubt.”

  “So you haven’t seen him?” April said, her heart sinking.

  “Can’t say I have. But if you find him, tell him there’s work to be done.”

  April ran back into the road. How was she going to find him?

  She jogged down the road. Occasionally a partygoer would pass by, and she would ask if they had seen Rico. Those that weren’t too inebriated replied that they hadn’t.

  Once she reached the other end of the village, which was outlined by a border of torches set on long sticks, she stopped. Rico was nowhere to be seen. She looked into the darkness of the forest beyond the edge of the torches’ light. He wouldn’t have gone in there, would he? He’d been pretty upset. People did dumb things when they were upset.

  Wherever he was, she couldn’t search for him alone. She needed help. She checked Mae’s timepiece. A little after eleven.

  She ran, following the line of torches back to the area where the party had been. Most of the guests had gone home. Those that remained were gathering up the dirty dishes and wiping down the long tables.

  April slipped into the woods towards the wine cellar. She grabbed one of the torches as she passed, holding it out in front of her to light her way.

  She found the gate easily despite the darkness, a stroke of luck in an otherwise terrible night.

  April went to the reference desk and dialed the number for St. Mary’s. The tired-sounding woman who answered said they didn’t generally take messages for shelter guests, but she promised to relay the message to Randall after hearing the panic in April’s voice. Then she called Barty’s cell phone.

  She sat down and waited. She knew she should get Dorian, but she was afraid to close the gate. What if Rico came back to the gate and it was closed?

  After what felt like an eternity, Barty, Randall, and Rex burst into the Werner Room. Randall rushed over to her. “Are you okay?” he asked, his forehead creased.

  “You got here fast,” she said, unable to answer his question without breaking down.

  “Barty picked us up.”

  Barty nodded. “They were running like the devil was chasing them.” He removed his Nemo’s ballcap. “Where’s Dorian?”

  Without speaking, she placed one of Dorian’s index cards inside The Groundling to mark the page, then closed it. She opened The Picture of Dorian Gray.

  Dorian was seated on the divan as the gate began to open, a surprised look on his face. By the time the gate opened he’d come to stand in front of it.

  “What day is it?” he asked as he stepped through the veil. “An entire night hasn’t passed, has it?”

  “It’s the same night,” April said. She closed The Picture of Dorian Gray as soon as Dorian had passed through. She opened The First Adventure of Braddy Evers, her eyes scanning the forest behind Dorian. Rico wasn’t there.

  Dorian looked between her and the others. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “We were wondering the same thing,” Barty said.

  She told them about Rico running away in The First Adventure of Braddy Evers.

  “How did he get into the library?” Randall asked.

  “He found Andre’s keys.”

  “And you decided the best thing to do next was to leave him alone in front of the gate? With a roomful of books that could open it?” Dorian was rubbing his temples as though he had a headache.

  “I… wasn’t thinking clearly.”

  “That’s for certain.”

  “You can rake me over the coals later. Right now, we need to find him before the gate shuts for the day.” She pulled a blank piece of paper from the printer at the reference desk and began scribbling a simple map of the groundling village.

  “The gate opens here. This is where the party was. This path leads through the village. I ran down that one, but didn’t see him.”

  “That doesn’t mean he isn’t there now,” Randall said.

  “You’re right. We’ll check there again.” She pointed to the path she’d seen on the other side of the outside dining area. “There’s another path here that I haven’t searched.”

  Randall nodded. “I’ve seen Rico around the library, but how will Dorian know what he looks like?”

  Dorian spoke, his voice distant. “He’ll be the one who’s not a groundling.”

  “Oh, right.”

  April nodded. “Okay. I’ll search here, you two search these areas”—she pointed to different sections of the map—“and we’ll meet back at the party square at four forty-five at the latest.”

  Randall thought for a moment. “How will we know what time it is? You’re the only one with a watch that works.”

  “Good point. Uh… here, I’ll whistle like this”—she whistled three distinct notes—“at four thirty. That should give you time to get back to the gate.”

  Randall nodded. “And if we find him, we’ll do the same.”

  April nodded. Either way, they’d be meeting back at the gate. She looked at Barty. “Can we count on you to watch over home base?”

  Barty nodded. “Of course.”

  “Leave the gate open,” April instructed. “He might find his way back. He’s just a scared kid. He doesn’t know how dangerous it can be.”

  Randall and Barty nodded. Dorian just continued to stare into the distance, his face blank and his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

  “What about you, Dorian?”

  Dorian didn’t look at her. “I’ll do what I have to do get the boy back safely and ensure the integrity of the gate.”

  She nodded. He didn’t need to be happy, just committed. “Good.”

  They walked to the gate. To her surprise, Dorian spoke again as the gate was opening. “If we don’t find the boy—”

  “We’ll find him,” April said. They had to.

  “But if we don’t,” Dorian continued, “We need to grab someone else to take his place here on this side once the gate becomes inactive for the day. The gate can’t bear that much imbalance. It will shatter.”

  “So we should kidnap someone?”

  “If we have to.”

  She didn’t say anything else. She really hoped they didn’t have to.

  They crossed over. Time had passed more quickly in Groundsville than at the library. It was still night on the other side, though it was a deeper, darker night. The village was calm and still, and even the torches lining the path burned low, if they hadn’t already sputtered out.

  They separated. “Rico,” April called. “Rico!” She didn’t dare yell too loudly, lest she wake someone up. She searched the bakery and looked in the windows of all the nearby buildings. Nothing. She took one of the torches that still burned and started to walk. She’d seen a small path beyond the dining area. She followed it, calling Rico’s name as she did.

  The path led to what she sensed was a large open space. She raised the torch and it illuminated rows of plants. Farmlands. She continued to follow the path, calling Rico’s name. Gigantic trees dotted the landscape, though it wasn’t the forest that Groundsville was. Rico had said that groundlings lived under the roots of trees.

  Taking a chance, she approached on of the trees. Sure enough, the massive roots, some as l
arge around as her own waist, were above ground. A door and several windows was visible in the spaces between them.

  She looked through one of the windows. Inside was a bedroom. The twin-sized bed was empty, the blankets rumpled and cast aside.

  She checked every open window she passed. All were the same: empty, abandoned beds. Where were all the people who were supposed to be inside these houses? When had she seen characters acting strangely before…?

  Not characters. UNCs. And there was only one reason a UNC would act out of character. They were going after Rico. She turned around and ran back for the village center.

  She ran for nearly twenty minutes before she recognized the area where the party had been held. She ran past it towards the next section of the town.

  A figure emerged in the darkness. Dorian.

  “All the beds…. Empty…” Her lungs felt like they were filled with salt.

  “What?”

  She took a few seconds to let her breathing slow. “I checked a farming area on the other side of that hill, but I found something strange—all the beds are empty. It’s like everyone just decided to wake up and get out of their beds in the middle of the night.”

  Dorian’s face grew worried in the light of the torch. “UNCs.”

  “That means Rico’s near the main plot,” April said. “Or at least he was.”

  A whistle sounded off in the distance, but it was choked off. Randall.

  “Come on,” April said, and they sprinted towards the noise. The thought of Randall in trouble, of someone else being hurt under her watch, drove all thought of her burning lungs from her mind.

  They seemed to run forever. Had they missed Randall? What if he had been in one of the houses they’d passed, in trouble and unable to call for help?

  The sound of voices up ahead spurred her on. A throng of groundlings crowded outside one of the dwellings. Each groundling was dressed in old-fashioned pajamas. A few even wore stocking caps.

  “Something tells me Randall’s in there, or maybe Rico,” April said. “But how do we get in?”

  “Diplomacy,” Dorian said. He cleared his throat loudly. “Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please.”

  The throng of groundlings turned to face him. Their empty, unfocused eyes glinted creepily in the flickering torch light. She recognized the baker woman from earlier. Her eyes were just as glassy and lifeless as the others’. Was she asleep? Had the gate somehow hijacked her body? Or was she manipulated into thinking she was acting of her own free will?

  “Are you crazy?” April whispered.

  “Like you have any right to make judgement on my sanity,” he whispered. He addressed the crowd. “I understand our friends have caused some problems for you. If you let us pass, we will take them and leave this place posthaste. We’ll cause no further damage.”

  The throng continued to stare at them, no one spoke.

  “I don’t think it worked,” April said.

  “Give it a minute.” He, too sounded nervous.

  After a minute or so of glassy-eyed staring, the groundlings parted, leaving a path to the door open.

  “Come on,” Dorian said, relief in his voice. He grasped her hand and pulled her to the door.

  “Be quick about it,” a voice yelled from the throng. The rest of the crowd murmured in agreement.

  Dorian pulled her more quickly, practically pushing her through the door before shutting it behind them. She hissed in pain as her head collided with the ceiling. She rubbed the spot, stooping over to avoid more damage.

  “Randall?” she called. “Rico?”

  “Hello?”

  She held the torch up, casting dim light on Randall’s face. He crouched low on his haunches. He looked like a grown man squatting in a child’s playhouse. Rex sat on the ground next to him, his eyes flashing an iridescent green in the torchlight.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  Randall nodded. “I saw them crowding outside this house and thought Rico might be in here. I snuck in through a window in the back.”

  “Did you find him?” she asked, holding her breath.

  Randall shook his head. “The place was empty. I think he was here but got scared when they showed up. He probably went out the same way I came in.” he nodded towards the door. “Those things are freaky. Are they always like that?”

  “UNCs,” April said. “Unnamed characters. We’ll explain later. Right now you just need to know that they are very, very protective of the storyline, or anything that might affect it.”

  “Oh,” Randall said. “That makes sense.”

  “It does?”

  He led them back to a small, groundling-sized desk. “Here.” He lifted a journal. A sprawling signature on the cover read Property of Braddy Evers.

  “Oh, no,” Dorian said. “This keeps getting worse.”

  “Braddy Evers?” April asked, reaching for any residual pop culture she’d absorbed about the book. “You mean, like, the main character of this book? The groundling?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “So we’re in the main character’s house?”

  Randall nodded. “It’s also the setting for one of the most important scenes of the book—the scene where Labhras and the Nisser convince Braddy to accompany them on their quest.”

  “No wonder the UNCs are upset,” April said.

  “Hurry up in there,” a voice called through the window. The crowd began to sound angry, restless.

  “We have to hurry,” Dorian said. “They won’t tolerate our presence much longer.”

  “But Rico—”

  Dorian shook his head. “We can’t help him if we’re dead. He’s lost them. He’ll be okay.” He looked at Randall. “You’re the strongest of the three of us,” he said. “You have to grab one of them. If the gate closes for the day when there’s such an imbalance, it will damage this world and ours.”

  “Once I grab one of them, we need to run,” Randall said. “Something tells me they won’t take kindly to kidnapping.”

  “But we can’t just leave Rico!” she said.

  “We don’t have a choice,” Dorian said.

  “He’s right,” Randall’s mouth was pressed in a thin line. “If they get us, then Rico’s totally on his own. I’m sorry, April.”

  She glanced down at her watch. “We still have an hour left before the gate closes. We can go through the back window. Rico might be hiding in the woods, he might only be a few yards away…”

  “It’s too late for that,” Dorian said.

  April crossed her arms and planted her feet. “Well I’m not going.”

  Dorian and Randall exchanged a glance.

  “Can you handle carrying one of those little guys?” Randall asked.

  “I think so.”

  “Good.” Randall scooped April up and tossed her over his shoulder.

  “Let go of me!” she yelled, but he had her arms pinned against her sides. Most of the krav maga she knew hinged on the other person not expecting her to fight back, and Randall knew she was going to fight back.

  “You’ll thank me later,” Randall said.

  “I will not! Let me go!”

  But Dorian was opening the door. “We’re leaving,” he yelled into the growing crowd. “The source of your malaise will soon be a distant memory…”

  They walked through the crowd, Rex leading the way.

  “Don’t listen to them,” April yelled at the crowd. “He’s going to—”

  But Randall clamped a hand over her mouth. “Do you have a death wish, girl?” he growled in her ear.

  They walked cautiously to the edge of the mass of people. Dorian looked at them. “Get ready to run.” He mouthed the words more than spoke them.

  She and Randall cleared the edge of the mob. One figure stood a little further away from the rest. He seemed different than the others, less zombie-like. Quickly, Dorian grabbed him and hoisted him under his arm. He clamped a hand over the groundling’s mouth, but not soon enough. The groundlin
g eked out a startled, “Hey!”

  It was all the motivation the mob needed to come after them with an angered roar.

  “Go!” Dorian hissed, and they took off, the mob close on their heels.

  Perhaps groundlings weren’t the best runners—which made sense because of their short, stubby legs and squat frames—because they were able to keep some distance between them. It wasn’t enough for them to be able to slow down, but as long as they didn’t trip or fall or stop they’d get back to the gate with no problem.

  This wasn’t what April wanted at all.

  They reached the square where the party had taken place earlier. They veered off into the woods towards the wine cellar.

  Randall was barely able to slip through the portal holding her. Dorian followed, grunting under the groundling’s weight.

  “Put me down!” April screamed, kicking as hard as she could.

  Randall said nothing, just continued to hold her. She was screaming so much that it took her a few seconds to realize that the groundling was doing the same.

  “Barty!” Dorian said, “Do you mind?”

  “Oh, right,” Barty said, coming out of his shocked stupor. He raised his hands and spoke a few gibberish words. The groundling fell limp.

  Barty looked at her nervously. “Uh, should I, uh, do her as well?”

  “Don’t you dare,” she screamed.

  “No need,” Dorian said. “Look.”

  Randall turned her towards the portal and she stopped thrashing. The mob of groundlings had caught up with them. They stood on the other side of the portal, staring through it.

  “If you go back through there they will tear you apart,” Dorian said. “Then the boy will have no hope whatsoever.”

  “What would it matter?” April asked. “We’re just leaving him there. They’ll go after him, now.”

  Dorian shook his head. “Not necessarily. They all came after us. For all we know, they think he’s with us now. If he keeps his head down we’ll be able to find him tomorrow night.”

  Tomorrow night? How could she leave Rico there by himself for that long? He was alone and undoubtedly frightened. But what else could she do? She slumped in Randall’s arms.