Clash of the Worlds. Ned Vizzini
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“We need your help!” Cordelia said to the Storm King, as the sounds of National Guard troops breaking down the front door reverberated through the floors below them.
The Storm King spun around, his eyes wide.
“I know precisely what is going on,” he said, the usual menace in his voice surprisingly muted. “It’s my magic. Since my rather untimely death, it has weakened. My book world and the real world are colliding. I never should have created it to begin with – there were better places to hide that wretched Book of Doom and Desire. Perhaps back where we found it in the first place …”
“We don’t have time for this,” Cordelia pleaded. “We all make mistakes, we get it. But now how do we fix it?”
“Fat Jagger is dead,” Eleanor added, pointing across the attic. “Brendan’s a zombie and he bit Deal, so she’s about three minutes from joining him! Can we undo it all somehow? Please …”
Her plea came out as a whimper as her newfound confidence began to wane. After all, it was entirely conceivable that the Storm King would offer no answers. The death of Fat Jagger, Brendan’s new hunger for flesh, Cordelia’s eventual turning, all of the destruction Fat Jagger had accidentally caused trying to get them here … it was more than Eleanor could bear to think about.
“I can save them,” the Storm King said, almost as if reading her mind. “We can save all of them. We can seal off the two worlds from each other for ever, and undo all of the damage that’s been caused. There is a magical fail-safe that I created when I made the book world. I always leave a way out, a way to undo the effects of any spells or magical constructs. That’s the first rule of the Lorekeepers. No magic should ever be permanent.”
As he spoke, he floated over to Brendan’s body and easily hoisted him on to his shoulder, belying the appearance of his withered old frame. Draped across the Storm King’s shoulder, Brendan tried to gnaw at the old man’s back, his teeth clacking together viciously.
They heard the National Guard troops in the hallway below them, searching the rooms on the second floor of the house. It would only be a matter of minutes before they discovered the attic.
The Storm King carried Brendan over to the far side of the room, just past the folded-up attic stairs. He pressed his hand against the wall and muttered several words under his breath.
“In nomine Domini rex aperto tempestas.”
A section of the wall suddenly vanished, opening a doorway into the secret passages that existed within Kristoff House. The Storm King turned back to face Cordelia and Eleanor. His eyes blazed as if they were on fire, the intensity causing both of the Walker sisters to look away.
“Follow me,” he said and then disappeared inside the dark passageway with Brendan still slung over his shoulder.
Eleanor and Cordelia met each other’s stare before they cautiously followed the Storm King. As she entered the passageway, Cordelia looked down at her right arm. The skin up to her elbow was turning a pale shade of green and already decaying. A growing headache pulsated at the back of her skull, making it increasingly difficult to focus on anything.
She clearly didn’t have much longer.
The Storm King spoke quickly as he lead them through a maze of passageways lit by an eerie green glow.
“We don’t have much time,” he said. “If we don’t get to the chamber soon, you and your brother will spend the rest of eternity as undead monsters. We need to get you three back into my books as soon as possible.”
“Your books?” Cordelia said. “We have to go back?”
“Yes,” the Storm King hissed, as he sped up through the interminably endless stone passages.
“But why?”
“There are three enchanted items hidden inside the book world, items called Worldkeepers.”
“What are Worldkeepers?” Eleanor asked.
“Merely objects,” the Storm King said. “But objects that, when used together, act as a key between the two worlds. They must be retrieved and brought to my brother, Eugene, in Tinz. He can help you get them to the Door of Ways. If all three Worldkeepers pass through the Door of Ways at the exact same time, then they will act as a locking mechanism, permanently sealing off the worlds from each other.”
“Wait, did you say your brother Eugene?” Cordelia asked.
She never knew he had a brother. Surely he must be dead by now, in any case – only magic had kept Denver alive so much longer than he should have been.
“Yes, my brother has been in Tinz for decades now,” the Storm King said. “There isn’t time to explain further, but once you retrieve the Worldkeepers, you must bring them to Eugene. He will help you from there.”
“Why can’t you just come with us?” Eleanor asked.
“I can no longer go back,” he said. “The same forces that trapped Dahlia inside the book world are keeping me out. It almost certainly has something to do with my death. Now enough jibber-jabber, we need to move!”
Eleanor and Cordelia glanced at each other, but didn’t have time to question him further. They suddenly realised that they had entered a small chamber. Neither of them remembered going through any doorway, and the room appeared to be sealed off on all sides.
“How did we get in here?” Cordelia asked as she looked around the small room.
Denver Kristoff gave no response and uttered another low spell as several torches around the room ignited with flickering blue flames that almost looked like liquid. The chamber was the size of a large bedroom. Its walls seemed to be made of stone, in spite of supposedly existing within an old, wooden Victorian house. Bookshelves made of polished bone lined the walls, stacked two deep with old leather-bound tomes that looked far more ancient than Denver’s rotting face. A small desk sat along the centre wall, and this too was made of bones. But not just any bones, the entire desk appeared to have been constructed entirely from human skulls, the tops of dozens of craniums creating a surprisingly smooth surface.
“Eeewww,” Eleanor said, shuddering.
“So … grotesque,” Cordelia muttered.
“Not really,” the Storm King said. “These are the heads of my old fraternity brothers. It always brings a tear to my eye when I see the grinning skulls of Winston, Charles, Xavier … and of course Henry, with that endearing gap in his front teeth … Oh dear. Can’t get emotional. There’s work to be done!”
The Storm King flopped Brendan down on to the desk with surprisingly little care. Brendan groaned and gnashed his teeth.
“Be careful!” Cordelia said.
“He’s already dead, my girl! A