“That guy, David Levin?”

  “What?!” My voice came out too loud. David’s name was the first thing I’d really heard Magda say.

  Magda gave me a look. “Don’t shout, I’m right here. David Levin. Kind of cute but way too serious. Drives that old wreck.”

  “Yeah? What about him?” I said. Keeping my voice low and normal. I took a sip of the cold mint tea in front of me.

  “It’s like he’s fallen off the face of the earth or whatever. I can’t get in touch with him. He hasn’t been in class.”

  This was not good news.

  “How long has he been gone? I mean, you know, how long’s he been out? Sick or whatever.”

  Magda shrugged. “A few days. I don’t know. Most of the week, I guess. I mean, I wouldn’t care, he’s not exactly my type or anything, except that he’s supposed to be my project partner and he’s screwing me over royally by not showing up in class.”

  “Did you call his house?”

  Magda rolled her eyes. “Yes, April, that had occurred to me.

  But once I got the machine and the second time, two nights ago, I got his mother.”

  “And?”

  “And she wasn’t too happy I’d called. She didn’t really tell me what was wrong with him. Come to think of it, she didn’t really tell me anything. Just said that when she saw him she’d tell him I called. And then she hung up. Probably thought I was some hoochie mama after her precious little darling. Mothers.”

  Chapter

  IX

  I got away from Magda as quickly as I could. Made up some bogus excuse about having to run an errand.

  “How come you didn’t tell me earlier?”

  I shrugged. “I forgot. Sorry, I’ll call you later, okay? Here’s some money to cover the drinks. I’ve got to go.”

  “Your bags!” Magda called out after me as I hurried to the door. “Keep them for me, will you?”

  I shot around the corner. Hoped that when Magda came out of the cafe she wouldn’t see that my car was still parked across the street. Hoped she wouldn’t find out I was a murderer.

  I was pretty sure that would be a good excuse for her to end our friendship.

  I’d forgotten my cell phone. Try finding a working public pay phone anymore. Not easy. I found one, finally, and made the call. Mrs. Levin was home.

  When I hung up, my hands were shaking. Had to find Jalil.

  Mailboxes, Inc. Where Jalil worked now that the Boston Market place had closed. Weighing packages had to be better work than slicing chicken. Cleaner, at least.

  It took me ten minutes to get there. I pushed open the door.

  A middle-aged man with a serious paunch was at the counter.

  A pretty brown-haired girl was explaining mailing options to him. I spotted Jalil by a shelf of assorted-size Jiffy bags. Walked over to him, didn’t say hello.

  “David is missing.”

  He flinched a little.

  “I didn’t see you come in. And what do you mean, David is missing?”

  “Missing, like he’s not been in school.”

  Jalil shrugged. “I know that. I just thought maybe he’s sick.

  Or playing hooky, though that’s not the Mr. Levin I know.”

  “Jalil, he hasn’t been home, either.”

  Jalil looked over at the counter. The brown-haired girl was still talking to the middle-aged customer. No one else had come into the store.

  Jalil turned and motioned for me to follow him into the back room.

  “Are you sure?” he hissed.

  “Pretty sure. My friend Magda called him the other night about some project. His mother rushed her off the phone. Then I called on the way over here. She was polite to me but worried.

  And angry, too, I think. Said she hadn’t seen David in days.”

  “Different schedules? Maybe he’s avoiding her.”

  “No. She said no food was gone. No clothes. I think she wondered the same thing. She’s been checking for any sign of him. Jalil, he’s gone.”

  Jalil nodded. Like he accepted David’s disappearance was something big.

  “Are you here?” he said. He looked straight at me. “Did you get the update?”

  I felt hot tears burning against my eyelids. “Yeah,” I whispered.

  “Are you all right? I mean…”

  I shook my head and wiped at the tears that had started to flow. “No. But I will be. I hope. I don’t know.”

  “April. Look, don’t panic. I have to show you something. It’s been freaking me out but I figure, hey, there’s an explanation, I just gotta find it. I mean, this is the real world. Things work a certain way, always have, always will. Right? But…”

  “But what, Jalil?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know, man. I’m thinking… with Senna dead and David missing… I really don’t want to be dealing with this but I’m thinking Everworld is seeping through.

  Or maybe Everworld Jalil is… just look.”

  He pulled me behind a large stack of folded cardboard boxes.

  Began to unbutton his blue Oxford shirt, fingers trembling.

  Eyes on the door behind me.

  “No, I’m not pulling a Christopher,” he said when he saw the look of doubt that flitted across my face.

  “Sorry.” I wiped away the last of my tears.

  He pulled the shirt open. Lifted his white T-shirt.

  And there it was. A hole, right through the middle of Jalil’s chest. Not a gunshot wound. Not some bloody, ragged, blackened hole burned there by Hetwan venom. Not the awful mark of a sword. Just — a hole. Clean, round, an emptiness all the way through his skinny chest. Like Jalil, real-world Jalil, the guy standing right in front of me, was a drawing and someone had erased a six-inch hole in his chest. Like he was a tall puzzle with one perfect piece punched right out.

  Through the hole I saw a six-inch-round segment of a Priority Mail box.

  Impossible. In Everworld, maybe. But impossible here, in the real world. Right?

  Obviously not.

  I stepped back from Jalil. Couldn’t help it. After all the grotesque creatures I’d seen, after all the disgusting wounds I’d treated, this — nothingness — was somehow the most disturbing.

  I. Was. Afraid.

  “Have you told the others?”

  “No. Haven’t seen David, obviously. Didn’t think of talking to Christopher about it. You’re the first. Feel special?”

  I laughed nervously. “What’s going on, Jalil?”

  “I don’t know. Are you okay? I mean, whole?”

  “I think. I guess. I… I didn’t notice anything when I got dressed this morning.”

  “Any ideas? This might be more your terrain than mine,” he said wryly. “I am pretty sure modem medical science is not going to account for a peephole in my rib cage.”

  “When did you first notice the… I mean; did it just appear that way or did it start really small…”

  “Yesterday. At least, when I went to take a shower yesterday morning, it was there. Wasn’t there when I went to bed the night before.

  Thought I was exhausted, got undressed in the dark… Point is, it’s new. And it’s here whether Everworld Jalil is or not. That’s something new. It’s a kind of crossover we haven’t experienced before.”

  “Senna,” I said flatly. “It has to be. Everything always comes back to Senna. David’s gone. Now this. When Senna died something must have happened to us.”

  “But you’re fine, right?”

  “So far,” I admitted. “If you can say being simultaneously consumed with guilt for killing your half sister and also glad you killed her, wishing maybe you’d done it sooner, if you can call that ‘fine.’” I sighed. “Look, I’ll find Christopher, see what’s going on with him.”

  “Yeah. While I go back to work comparing UPS to Federal Express to Priority Mail prices. I’m not out of here until six. Then I’ll go by David’s, see if he’s shown up. Damn, I thought we were done with that witch. But I think you’re right, April. I think maybe Senna’s death is gonna cause consequences, the action and now the reaction. It makes no sense but neither does a hole in my chest. Senna dies in Everworld, we’re the same in Everworld, we’re experiencing weird stuff here, in the real world. At least I am. David could still be just A.W.O.L.”

  “No, I’m sure he’s not hiding out on purpose.”

  I felt a surge of raw hate flood my body. Senna was dead and still she dominated our lives.

  “You know, April,” Jalil said. “What happened back there, in Merlinshire. At the end, when she was torturing us.”

  Jalil paused. I wanted to step forward again, maybe touch his arm. But I didn’t. I wasn’t sure he’d want me so close when he told me. Plus, I was still trembling with anger.

  “My mind. It’s not right. In the real world, I mean.”

  “Jalil, you’re brilliant. You’re intellectual and smart in so many ways and you’re brave….”

  He laughed. Not a happy laugh, but not completely cynical, either.

  “Thanks, I think. Obsessive-compulsive disorder. No one at home knows. Senna caught me once, before this all started. She caught me at school, in the lab. April, for one split second, she made it all stop. She made my mind quiet. I was in control.”

  “How?” A stupid question.

  Jalil shrugged. “How did she do any of the strange things she did? Point is, for that one split second I was free of the disease. It was… it was beautiful. And I could have stayed free.

  All I needed to do was become her slave. Pledge myself to Senna as her unquestioning champion.”

  “You said no.”

  “Yeah. And she hated me from that moment on. It only got worse, of course, every time I fought her will. But I hated her, too.

  At the end, April, if you hadn’t killed her, it would have been me.”

  I smiled and this time, I did touch his arm. “Except for the fact that no man could kill Senna.”

  Jalil grinned. “There was that. Anyway, in Everworld, no OC.

  From the very beginning, it was just gone. My world was turned upside down — sometimes literally — every fact I’d ever known and every theory I’d ever proved since the day I was born was being shown as false in this new place. I was frustrated and angry and determined not to bend to this new reality of chaos and uncertainty. This shifting version of reality, whatever, I still don’t know what to call it. But still, I was free. In the one way I could never be free here.”

  I knew, at that moment what he was about to say.

  “Are you saying you want to stay in Everworld?” I asked. “I mean, if it comes down to a choice. If…”

  “If I fade right away here, would I miss it?” He gestured mockingly at the shelves of packing materials, rolls of tape, stacks of colored construction paper. “All this?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t know, April. I really don’t. There are my parents. And sisters. And Miyuki, she and I, you know, we’re getting close. But there’s the OC. And everything here, it’s not the same anymore.

  Now there’s Everworld, always in my mind. Memories that won’t go away. I see everything here now so differently. Things I had tolerance for once, no more. This ordered universe, the rules I know by heart? It all seems somehow dull. Not enough. I just don’t know. It might be too late for me, this world. You know?”

  Chapter

  X

  I ran. Literally ran across the street, cars honking at me, kids on a school bus sneering. Borders. Borders had bathrooms. I had to know. Now.

  Grabbed the handle of the revolving door, pushed, too fast, the person in the compartment ahead of me looked back like,

  “What’s your damage?”

  I mouthed “sorry,” tried not to make a mad dash for the bathrooms. Wouldn’t look too cool, would probably elicit a few witty comments from the so-important college guy at the information counter. “Too much coffee in the cafe?”

  I got on the escalator. Gripped the rail just like my mother had always told me to do. Didn’t walk up the moving stairs, stood still, both feet on one serrated step. The real world being so full of dangers, unlike Everworld. Real-world April being so much more timid than Everworld April. Everworld April would probably have climbed the rail on hands and knees.

  Finally, second floor, stepped off, carefully. Walked deliberate-casual to the far right corner. Pushed open the door.

  Every stall door open. Look at that, I had my choice. Chose the stall farthest from the door. In case I screamed or something, slightly less chance of my being heard. Went inside, closed and locked the three-quarter door behind me.

  Okay. Examining my body is not something I do a lot of.

  But this was necessary. I hung my bag on the hook on the side wall. Took off my coat. Lifted my arms and pulled my ribbed cotton Gap T-shirt over my head.

  Closed my eyes. Took a deep breath, and told myself, It’s okay, April, it’s okay. Just look.

  I did. Nothing. I mean, everything, everything was there, where it should be. No magic peepholes.

  Strained my neck trying to see over my shoulder. Looked like skin all around. Felt my butt. All there. Maybe a bit more than last month bat oh, I’d never worry about an extra pound again, flesh was good, it was very good.

  I got dressed, trembling slightly, relief washing over me.

  Then I sat on the toilet and put my head in my hands and cried.

  Chapter

  XI

  “April, hey. What are you doing here?”

  “Hello to you, too.”

  “Sorry. Just that you’ve never dropped in before, you know, unannounced. Without being part of some bizarre scheme to catch a Nazi-wanna-be arms dealer.”

  “Could you maybe shut up?”

  “No one’s home but us chickens. Come on in.”

  I followed Christopher into the den. The TV was on, of course. I noticed now that the remote was still in Christopher’s hand. Of course. On a small side table, a can of soda and an open bag of Cheetos. Of course.

  Christopher flopped into the recliner and gestured toward the couch. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

  I sat on the couch. Instinctively pulled a pillow onto my lap.

  “Are you here?” I said.

  “Real-world me is here all alone. I’m awake over there now.

  But if you’re asking if I got the update, oh, yes. The whole stinking mess. Right up to this crazy-assed scheme to invade Hel.

  About Senna…”

  “I’m sorry she got to me again, at the end,” he said in a rush. “I was going to give you up, April. I know it wasn’t really me but still, I’m sorry. I felt the moment she died. I was released, just like that. I’m glad she’s dead, April. We all are. She had to die, you know that.”

  I nodded, unable to speak. Let a few tears well over and trickle down my cheeks. Then I took a deep breath.

  “David’s missing,” I said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, he’s gone, missing. I don’t think his mother knows where he is. He hasn’t been at school, either. Jalil’s going by his house later to check again.”

  Christopher shrugged. Back to the old who-gives-a-Flying-Walenda jerk. “Hey, maybe he and Senna have hooked up on another astral plane.

  Corulers of their very own bizarro kingdom. I bet right now David’s showing her what he can do with his sword.”

  He punched the remote. All old Clint Eastwood movie. Clint was a cowboy.

  “You don’t seem very worried,” I said.

  Christopher shrugged. “I’m not. I have my own problems.”

  New station. Cartoon Channel. Johnny Bravo.

  “Love this show,” Christopher murmured. He was staring at the screen, eyes squinted, face intent. Like he was trying to burn the images into his head.

  “What problems?”

  Christopher sighed. Like I was bothering him.

  He lowered the volume on the TV. Put down the remote.

  Glanced toward the door of the den. Then he sat forward in the recliner, perched on the edge, and lifted his T-shirt.

  “Like this. If you must know.”

  I should have known.

  “Well?” he said. “Interesting, isn’t it?”

  I nodded, silent. Felt sick.

  “When were you planning on tel ing us about this?” I said finally.

  Christopher was fading. His chest was translucent, not completely, but not completely opaque, either.

  “Only started a day or two ago. It’s kind of an Invisible Man thing,” he said, dropping his shirt. “Pretty soon I’ll be wearing a trench coat, slouch hat, and dark glasses to school. I might even consider a life of crime. Bank robbery, unarmed of course. A cat burglar, maybe. Very dashing.”

  He sat back in the recliner but didn’t pick up the remote.

  “Jalil,” I said. “It’s happening to him, too. I mean, there’s a hole, a perfectly round hole right through his chest. I mean, you can see right through it.”

  Christopher grinned. “Playing doctor with Mr. Spock, are you? So, how about you, April? All there? Maybe you should, you know, let me examine you, just to be sure.”

  “You’re an idiot,” I said. But I wasn’t really mad. Christopher was just on autopilot, telling the old jokes, playing the old roles.

  I knew him well enough by now to know he was freaking, trying to hang on to sanity, like the rest of us. “I’m all here,” I said. “I’m not fading, there are no holes. And before you say it: Only the ones that have always been there.”

  “Am I getting that predictable?” He laughed. “Time for some new material.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  Christopher shrugged. “Nothing. For now. What can we do? You know what’s interesting, though?”

  “What?”

  “I’m kind of able to control it. Now, don’t laugh, but TV? The more I watch, the more into a show I get, like a block of reruns of The Andy Griffith Show, whatever, Barney Fife and Opie and Aunt Bea, the more solid I get. Doesn’t last. An hour later, I’ll be doing something else, I check, I’m see-through again.”

  I thought about that for a second.

 

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