Secret Places and Hidden Things

Chapter Nine

Jack awoke with a start.

He was in the library, sitting by the window. He must have fallen asleep while he was reading. There was a book on his lap. Flurries of insects were bouncing on the window screen, attracted to the dim light of his table lamp. A cool breeze wandered in from the morning twilight and washed the film of sleep from his eyes.

He had dreamed of William again. This wasn't the first time it had happened, and like the other times, the exact events seemed to drip away too quickly for him to remember. He was only left with the feeling that something was wrong.

The helm must have moved while he slept. The scene outside was an endlessly rippling grassland. He could see a little glimmer of light under a tree on some far off hilltop and wondered if there were people out there. He couldn't tell if it was morning or evening, but it didn't really matter. The light wasn't changing, so it probably would be twilight all day.

Suddenly, with a flutter of wings, something colorful brushed by his cheek and landed on the rim of the lampshade. It was a tiny bird. Somehow the light was moving around it too slowly, leaving a path of bright color in its wake.

A door opened quietly at the back of the library. Jack turned to see a thin, dark-haired boy standing there with a vacant expression masking his face. He was piled in what appeared to be layers of red fabric, but it didn't seem to resolve into any particular piece of clothing. It looked like a large blanket floating around him as he walked over, long capes and cloaks swirling through the air. Saying nothing, he sat down in a chair on the other side of the window, dangling his legs solemnly. He had bare feet.

"Um, hello," Jack said, wondering if he was still dreaming.

The boy tilted his head. "Are you real?" he asked. It wasn't necessarily a polite question, but he made it seem excessively so.

"I think I am..." Jack said.

The boy grinned. A few more birds appeared from behind him. One flew through the window and a thin blue ring rippled out like water, distorting the glass. Another landed next to the first on the lampshade, and they nuzzled each other making rainbows where they touched.

"If you're real, that means I made it through," the boy said. "For a while I thought I'd just circled back around."

"Where did you make it through?" Jack asked.

"By the maple tree."

A small gust of wind came in through the window and blew the birds off the lampshade. They landed on the boy's ears and he laughed.

"Who are you?" Jack asked. "Daerk said there weren't other people here, but now I've met three unexpectedly."

"You know Daerk?" the boy asked. "I haven't seen him for a long time." He shook his head lightly and the birds lost their balance. One took refuge on a bookcase, the other landed on Jack's knee. It walked up his leg, leaving bright footprints. He offered his finger, and it hopped onto the tip, fluttering its wings and spraying light in all directions like paint.

"So you're not new, then?" Jack asked, examining the bird closely. It pecked at his nose.

The boy shook his head again. "No, I've been here forever," he said. "I got lost, though. It was some sort of maze. Hollow people everywhere. They weren't like you." He reached over and picked up Jack's hand, running his fingers over the knuckles and bones. "You are very real." He smiled kindly.

"What's your name?" Jack asked.

"Michael." He put Jack's hand down and leaned back in his chair.

The bird from the bookshelf floated down and settled on Jack's arm. It was very warm. Jack looked at Michael's face, something prickling his memory, and he realized that Michael looked a lot like him. At least, the version of himself he had seen in the mirror that first day. They had the same thin face, dark eyes, and curly black hair. They could have been brothers.

Another door opened at the back of the library and Daerk drifted in, looking down at his feet and mumbling. Michael, when he saw who it was, slid out of his chair and trotted over to Daerk, hugging him around the middle.

"Oh...well, hmm! But...hello! Where did you come from, Michael? I thought you'd left."

Michael looked up at Daerk. "Don't be silly. You know I'd never leave." He started to lead Daerk over to the window by the hand. "Is Elliot still here?"

"No, but we have a fox now." Daerk said.

Michael stopped. "A fox? Where is it?" He let go of Daerk's hand and disappeared off among the shelves.

"Well, uh, it's not with me..."

A door clicked shut somewhere behind the book cases.

Daerk stood for a long moment, looking at the shelves where Michael had gone, then walked over to Jack and sat down. One of the tiny birds landed on his knee and he smiled.

"So, you know him, then?" Jack asked.

"Well, I suppose. He's been here quite a long time. Yes... Ever since I can remember, really."

Another door opened and they turned to see Marelle slink into the library with her arms full of books.

"Are you eating in here? It smells really good." She sniffed at the air. Daerk looked at Jack, but he could only shrug.

"Maybe Michael went into the dining room when he left. That's where the fox always is."

"Who's Michael?" Marelle asked.

"One of Daerk's old friends," Jack said, the corner of his mouth twitching.

She narrowed her eyes. "In that case I think I'll wait until later to meet him." She dropped her books on a table with a thud and walked off among the shelves, her hips leading the way.

"What do you suppose she's up to?" Jack asked.

"Oh, who knows," Daerk said. "Everyone's up to something these days." He looked out the window with half a smile.