Abarat: Absolute Midnight Page 8

  Please, Boa protested. I’d never try to compromise the sacred relationships between you and your sons.

  “I don’t believe you,” Laguna Munn replied plainly. “I think you’d try anything if you thought you could get away with it.”

  I wouldn’t dream of it. I know what you’re capable of.

  “You might think you do but you don’t have the first idea, so be careful.”

  Understood.

  “Good. Now, I should leave this chamber.”

  “Wait,” Candy said. “Don’t go yet. I’m feeling dizzy.”

  “That’s probably because I’m still here gabbing. I should leave you to give birth to Boa.”

  The image Laguna Munn’s words conjured was grotesque. It made Candy feel sicker than ever.

  “It’s too late to feel queasy now, girl. This is dirty magic we’re doing. It’s not the kind of work sanctioned by the Council of the Yebba Dim Day. If it was, you wouldn’t be here. Do you understand?”

  “Of course,” Candy said.

  She understood perfectly well. It was the same in Chickentown. There was a Dr. Pimloft whose offices were above the Laundromat on Fairkettle Street. He’d do certain operations people were too embarrassed to talk to their regular doctors about. Sometimes that was your only choice.

  “I’m going to get out of here,” Laguna said, “before I throw the conjuration off balance.”

  “Where will you be? In case there’s a problem?”

  “It’ll be fine,” Mrs. Munn said. “You want to be separated, after all. So . . . here comes the conjuration. I designed it to do what you require. So let it do its job.”

  There was a sound like someone chopping with axes from behind Mrs. Munn, and a shadow-bird—or something like it—rose from the darkness and flew in and out through the intricate pattern, wall to wall to wall to wall, before disappearing into the darkness behind Mrs. Munn.

  “What was that?” Candy said.

  “The chamber is getting impatient,” she said. “It wants me gone.”

  The phenomena occurred again, exactly as before.

  “I should go,” Laguna Munn said. “Before this gets any worse.”

  Candy suddenly felt weak and her legs buckled beneath her. She tried to make her legs respond to her instruction, but she realized she was no longer the mistress of her body. Boa was.

  “Wait . . .” Candy started to say, panic rising in her chest. But even her tongue wouldn’t do as she instructed. And it was almost too late. Laguna Munn had turned her back on Candy, preparing to leave.

  It’s over now, the Princess said.

  Candy didn’t waste energy trying to reply. She was seconds away from losing herself forever. She could feel rhythmical thundering that no doubt Boa had set to work. It was eating at the corners of her world, consuming her consciousness with ever-larger bites.

  Through a haze of white noise she saw Laguna Munn open up a door in the wall.

  No. Candy tried to say. But no sound came out.

  This would be a lot easier if you just gave up and gave in. Let go of Candy Quackenbush. You’re going to die. And you won’t want to be alive when I start feeding.

  What? Candy thought. Feeding off me? Why?

  Because I’ve got to grow myself a body, girl. That requires nourishment. A lot of nourishment. Did I forget to mention that?

  Candy wanted to weep at her own stupidity. Boa must have shaped these plans no more than a few thoughts away from where Candy had been hiding her own thinking. But she’d hidden her intentions totally. There hadn’t been a moment when Candy had been suspicious.

  But you know now, Boa gloated. If it helps, think of this as punishment for stealing my memories of magic. I know death may seem a very strong punishment, but it was a terrible thing you did.

  I’m . . . I’m . . . sorry?

  Too late. It’s over. It’s time you died, Candy.

  Chapter 12

  One Becomes Two

  FAR OFF, SOMEWHERE IN the darkness, Candy Quackenbush thought she heard the sound of Laguna Munn’s voice.

  “Covenantis? Did you lock the chamber? The lock, boy!”

  There was no answer from the child. All Candy heard was the chorus of strange noises her dying body was making. Her heart hadn’t stopped entirely. Every few seconds it still managed to beat; on occasion it even managed two or three beats strung together. But what little life her body still possessed was more like a memory than the real thing: like a vision of the Abarat even as it slipped away. All gone now. All forgotten.

  No, not entirely forgotten. Some portion of her eyes’ ability to form images still existed. Though she could no longer see the walls of the Separation Chamber, she could see, with eerie specificity, a stain of smoky gray air appearing in front of her face. She knew its source. It was coming from her own body.

  It was Boa’s soul she was looking at. At least the haunted shadow of it, finally liberated from the cell into which the women of the Fantomaya had put it. Freed from Candy. And now gaining strength.

  It was pushing itself, spreading itself, extruding rudimentary legs from its torso, and something that had the potential to become arms, while from the top a single thread of gray matter sprouted. From this fragile stalk, two leaves had formed and on them, the undeveloped shape of a mouth and nose. And above the leaves, two white, slim petals grew, each with bursts of blue and black upon them, as if blessed with sight.

  It was a simple illusion, but it quickly gained credibility as new stalks sprayed upward in their dozens, forming intricate laceries of vein and nerve that began to conjure to shape of their possessor’s face. Though it was still little more than a skinless mask knitted of pulsing threads, there was a glimpse, even there, of the young woman who would soon come into being. She would be beautiful again, Candy thought. She would break hearts.

  Candy hadn’t lifted herself up off the ground since her knees had buckled beneath her. She still knelt in the same spot, watching the vestigial form of Princess Boa attract to it the detritus of the life-forms shed by the chamber walls: withered flower housings, leaves, living and dead, all adding their sum to the patchwork that was slowly giving the Princess more substance. The surrounding flora and fauna were nourishing Boa’s body, and it was by their sacrifice alone that Candy’s life had been spared. But the process was going too slowly.

  Candy could sense Boa’s frustration as she received these pitifully inadequate contributions to the body she was trying to grow again.

  She opened her lips, and though her throat and tongue were unfinished, she managed to speak. It was light, more than a quiet whisper, but Candy heard it plainly.

  “You look . . . nourishing . . .” she said.

  “I’d make bad eating right now. You should find something healthier.”

  “Hunger is hunger. And time is of the essence. . . .”

  This time Candy forced her throat to form the question, though it was barely audible.

  “Why is that exactly?” she said.

  “Midnight,” Boa said simply. “It’s almost upon us. You don’t feel it, do you?”

  “Midnight?”

  “Midnight! I can feel it. The last darkness is coming, and it will blot out every light in the heavens.”

  “No . . .”

  “Saying no will change nothing. The Abarat is going to die in the dark. Every sun will be eclipsed, every moon blinded, every star in every constellation extinguished like a candle flame. But don’t worry. You won’t be here to suffer the consequences. You’ll be gone.”

  “Where?”

  “Who knows? Who’ll care? Nobody. You will have served your purpose. You had sixteen years of life, going places you would never have gone if you hadn’t had me hidden inside you. You have nothing to complain about. Now your life ends. And mine begins. There’s something quite pleasing about the balance, isn’t there?”

  “I’m not done living . . .” Candy murmured.

  “Well, I’m sorry,” Boa said, mocking Candy’s gravity. />
  “You don’t . . . understand,” Candy said.

  “Trust me. There’s nothing you know that I don’t.”

  “You’re wrong,” Candy said. Her voice was gaining strength as she drew upon the clarity Laguna Munn’s gift had given her. “I know how you played Carrion along all those years, making him think you loved him, when all you really wanted from him was the Abarataraba.”

  “Listen to yourself,” Boa said. “To hear you, people might think you actually knew what you were talking about.”

  Candy sighed.

  “You’re right,” she said. “I don’t know much about the Abarataraba. It’s a book of magic—”

  “Stop! Stop! You’re embarrassing yourself. Don’t waste your last minutes worrying about something you’ll never understand. Death has come for you, Candy. And when it leaves it’s going to be taking you along with it. You, and every thought you ever had. Every hope, every dream. All gone. It’ll be like you never lived.”

  “The dead don’t disappear. There are ghosts. I’ve met one. And I’ll be one, if necessary. I have energy and power.”

  “You have nothing,” Boa said with a sudden burst of rage.

  She reached out and seized hold of Candy. The effect, in both directions, was immediate. Now, as she drew power out of Candy directly the smoky air began to solidify into gray bone behind the latticework of veins and nerves that had first defined her features.

  “Better,” Boa said, smiling through gritted teeth. “Much better.”

  Every part of her body was speeding toward completion now. The fluids in Boa’s eye sockets bubbled like boiling water. Even in her diminished state Candy could still see the bizarrity in the sight before her.

  “Oh, I like this,” Boa said, luxuriating in the bliss of her reconstruction.

  This time there was enough of her flesh and bone in place that Candy could see a hint of the beautiful woman whose image Finnegan Hob had kept above his bed. But every sliver of Boa’s recovered beauty was being purchased at the expense of Candy’s life. Each time Boa’s greedy fingers touched Candy they left her more impoverished, more exhausted. And this was not the kind of exhaustion that she could sleep off in a few quiet hours. This was the other kind: the sleep from which there was no waking.

  Death has come for you. Boa had uttered the words just a few minutes ago.

  She hadn’t lied.

  Chapter 13

  Boa

  WEAK THOUGH CANDY WAS—THE convulsions wracking her body with increasing frequency, her legs so exhausted she doubted they’d support her for more than two or three strides—she had no choice. She had to get out of the chamber quickly, or Boa’s appetite for her life force would be the death of her. In one small detail, luck was on her side.

  Candy remembered hearing Laguna Munn’s voice. It felt ages ago, but the incantatrix made mention of the lock. Suddenly Candy realized that despite his mother’s instruction, Covenantis had failed to lock the chamber door. It had opened, just a crack. But it was sufficiently wider than the narrow shadow it cast. Without it, Candy would have had little or no chance of locating her escape route. But here it was!

  She only allowed her gaze to linger on the shadow of the door for the briefest moment. She was afraid of giving anything away to Boa. Then, directing her gaze to the opposite wall—as if it was there that she’d guessed the door to be—she slowly started to haul herself to her feet.

  Boa’s relentless appetite had robbed Candy’s body of strength and flexibility. It felt like a dead weight, which took every bit of willpower to get moving and keep moving. Every part of her seemed close to failure. Her lungs were like two stones inside her, while her heart fluttered like a torn paper bird. Her body would have to be stirred from its torpor if Candy was to have any hope of escaping this chamber. She would have to force her enfeebled arms to make her torso collaborate in its own survival.

  “Come on,” she told herself through gritted teeth, “. . . move.”

  Reluctantly, her body responded. But it hurt. Her heart-bird got panicky. The rest of her innards started to close down. She could taste something disgusting in her throat, as though her entrails were backed up like choked sewer pipes. She tried not to think about it, which was in fact quite easy because her mind was failing along with everything else.

  She didn’t need much brainpower to recognize her mortal enemy, however. Boa was with her in the chamber, and she was a distressing sight. Without bones, Boa’s anatomy was a ragged mass of possibilities that had not yet congealed. Her fingers dangled like empty gloves, her face a long mask of lost intention, and her mouth, a hole without a tongue or teeth.

  Boa’s appearance was so appalling that Candy forgot her exhaustion and scrambled to get out of her way. With a sudden rush of energy, Candy pushed herself up off the chamber floor, catching Boa off guard, and knocking her to the floor.

  “Be still, witch!” Boa yelled. “Let’s have this over with, once and for all!”

  Candy lurched toward the door, avoiding the coils which, had they encircled her and tightened their grip once more, would have ground her ribs to powder and her guts to meat and excrement.

  She reached out to the shadow, which marked her destination, and slid her fingers around the door. It was no illusion. It was solid and real in her grip. She pulled, half expecting the door to protest its opening, but no. Despite its massive size, it was served by some kind of counterweight, which allowed it to swing open with only the most modest of effort on Candy’s part.

  Her surprise made her careless. As she pulled the door open, Boa’s forefinger wrapped itself around her throat, tightening with the efficiency of a noose.

  Candy instantly let go of the door, and forced her fingers down between neck and noose. But it wasn’t enough to keep Boa from putting so much pressure on Candy’s windpipe that she could no longer draw breath.

  Candy’s thoughts were already in swift decay thanks to Boa’s theft. Now the sudden loss of oxygen robbed her mind of still more functions. Her thoughts became increasingly confused. What was she doing in this place? And the woman with the hole for a mouth; who was she?

  Boa’s skills with her body were growing as fast as Candy’s body was drained. She spoke now, her voice crude.

  “This is no way to die,” Boa said. “Where’s your dignity, girl? Stop struggling, and let me take what’s mine. You lived a fine life because of me. Brief, yes, but full of my insights. My lessons. My magic.”

  Somebody outside the chamber walls, but close enough to have heard Boa’s speech, apparently found it very funny. Her mockery echoed around the chamber.

  “Listen to yourself.” It was Laguna Munn. Again, the laughter ignited. “Such pretension. And from what? A cannibal. Yes, that’s the truth of it when you get down to the facts. You are able to devour the life of a girl who gave you sanctuary from those who had taken yours and would gladly have extinguished your soul. Let Candy go.”

  “Oh no . . . there’s no letting go.”

  “Is there not? We shall see about that.”

  As she spoke, the wall opposite the door began to fold in upon itself, and the incantatrix came into view.

  She was pointing at Boa, as she continued her accusations.

  “Whatever was good in you, and bright, has gone to corruption.”

  “You can say whatever you like, old woman,” Boa replied. “Your time’s over. There’s a new world about to be born.”

  “Funny. I hear that a lot,” Laguna Munn said, her voice thick with contempt. “Now let the commoner go, Princess. If you really want to dine on flesh, you shouldn’t be eating the hoi polloi.”

  The expression on Boa’s face suddenly cleared.

  “Oh my. She is, isn’t she?”

  “She’s not of noble birth, like you, Princess.”

  “No,” Boa said, her tone deeply grateful. “If you hadn’t stopped me—” She released Candy from her grip. “I could have tainted myself.”

  “And what a sad day that would have bee
n for all those poor suffering aristocrats like yourself who would have lost a beloved sister.”

  “Oh me! Oh, poor beloved me.”

  As Candy stumbled out of Boa’s hold she turned and the subtle signs of deceit upon Boa’s face caught Candy’s attention. Boa didn’t wait to let Candy speak. She quickly was gone, out of the chamber and off up the wooded slope. Candy did her best to recover her equilibrium, but it was difficult. Boa’s thefts had left her body weak, and her thoughts ragged. She was only certain of one thing.

  “She would have killed me . . .”

  “Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Mrs. Munn replied. “But this is my rock, girl, and she has no—”

  “Mama!”

  The cry came from Covenantis. And as heart wrenching as his wails were, the terrible howl of anguish that followed was infinitely worse.

  Laguna was clearly torn between her responsibilities to her injured guest, and those she had to her son. Candy simplified things:

  “Go to the boy! I’ll be fine. I just need to recover my breath.” She looked up at Mrs. Munn. “Please,” she said, “don’t worry about me!”

  Her plea was lent force by another sobbing cry from her son.

  “Where are you, Mama?”

  Laguna Munn looked at Candy one more time.

  “Go!” Candy said.

  Laguna Munn didn’t put up any further argument. Instead, she addressed the walls of the chamber.

  “This girl is here as my guest. She’s hurt. Heal her.” She turned her attentions back toward Candy for a moment. “Stay here and let the chamber do its work. I’ll be back with my boys.”

  “Be careful . . .”

  “I know, girl, I know. Boa’s dangerous. But believe me, so am I. I’ve got a few tricks she wouldn’t want to see. Now heal. The dark Hours that are coming won’t wait for you to put yourself back together. Hurry up. The beginning’s been a long time over. And the end always comes sooner than you expect.”

  And so saying, she left the girl who was truly Candy Quackenbush, nothing added or taken away, to the healing hush of the chamber.