Anne Ursu - The Shadow Thieves

"All right," Zee said. "Two days. But then I'm going to go out and… I don't know. Follow the Footmen. I can't sit here and do nothing, Charlotte. I can't."

She nodded softly "I know."

Charlotte had a hard time sleeping that night. Visions of nightmares danced behind her eyes, except the nightmares were real. Hideous man-like creatures made of clay clutched at her with their bird-claw hands, and she could not run, she could not move, she could not yell. Were they nightmares or visions? She had no idea- she would just find herself shuddering awake and looking at the clock and seeing only fifteen minutes had passed since the last time she had awoken.

So it was a refreshing change for Charlotte to wake up to the sound of a soft knock on her door. She opened her eyes, and her mother's head popped in the doorway.

"Charlotte?" she whispered. "Are you still awake? I saw the lights…"

"Oh… I must have fallen asleep with the lights on." This was technically true-she did, in fact, fall asleep with the lights on; no need to mention that it was on purpose.

Her mother smiled. "Let me turn them off."

"No… no… I'm not sleeping well. I might read for a while." The words just popped out of her mouth, but really it sounded like an excellent plan. No nightmares when you are reading! There are many wonderful things about reading, but surely that is one of the most wonderful of all.

"It's pretty late, sweetie," Mrs. Mielswetzski said kindly "Just a little, then try to get some sleep. Good night, my dear." And she disappeared.

"Mom?" Charlotte called quickly after her. "Will you tuck me in?"

Her mother reappeared in the doorway and smiled a motherly smile. "Of course, dear." Mrs. Mielswetzski sat on the edge of the bed and put her head on Charlotte's forehead. "I'm having trouble sleeping too. I just went down to drink some warm milk. It's strange tonight." She paused. "You know," she said, beginning to stroke Charlotte's hair, "you used to fall asleep with the lights on all the time when you were younger. You'd read into the night and just fall asleep. Your father and I would come in and find you clutching your book, and we'd tuck you in and turn out the lights. You never woke up, you were such a good sleeper."

Charlotte relaxed a little, letting her mother run her hands through her hair. Her eyes closed, her shoulders fell into her body, her bones sank into the bed. She exhaled.

"That's my girl."

"Do you know where Mew is?" Charlotte asked sleepily.

"She's prowling around downstairs." Mrs. Mielswetzski laughed a little. "She's strange tonight too! I don't know what it is. She keeps watching out the windows and growling."

Charlotte's eyes flew open. "Oh!" With a flash she remembered Mew's behavior earlier in the night, when they were leaving. She had not wanted them to leave. Almost as if she knew…

"Must be another cat out there or something," her mother said.

"Must be," Charlotte said weakly.

"Okay, honey, I'm going to try to sleep. You do the same, okay?" Mrs. Mielswetzski kissed her daughter on the forehead, tucked the blankets up, and headed to the hallway-leaving the lights on, which suited Charlotte just fine.

Charlotte had insisted on leaving her bedroom door ajar ever since she found Mew; it had been quite a change for her, as she had strictly been a sleep-with the-door-closed kind of girl. But it was an adjustment she was happy to make, and it didn't take too much time to train her parents -who were also suddenly sleeping with their door ajar. And as she left, Mrs. Mielswetzski obediently left the door open a crack, and Charlotte was glad because if someone was coming to take her, she would at least hear them coming…

Suddenly there was a loud crash downstairs. Charlotte jumped. Then she heard Mew let out a Mew yowl. Okay, she told herself. Just the cat. Must have knocked something over. A vase. Or something. Nothing to be afraid of.

Charlotte shivered in her bed. No, no, she could not read after all-all she could do was lie there thinking about all the things that might be coming and what they might sound like, and unfortunately, after an hour or so of this she did accidentally fall asleep. She fell asleep soundly this time, so soundly that when the footsteps came, she did not hear them. But anyway, the footsteps were not coming toward her, but rather heading through the hallway, down the stairs, through the front hall, and outside the door.

When she woke up, it was 2 A.M. and there was a cat standing on her face. The cat was looking in her eyes and yowling.

"Cat!" Charlotte said dumbly.

"Yowl," said the cat.

She willed herself to wake up. "What is it?"

"Yowl," said the cat.

Bartholomew started running to Charlotte's door and back to Charlotte. Charlotte got the point pretty quickly. She got up sleepily and followed Mew into the hallway.

Mew ran up to Zee's room. Charlotte followed. The door was wide open and the bed was empty. Charlotte gasped. Mew began to run back and forth up and down the stairs, then to the front door.

Charlotte looked at the cat, then at the door. She felt a lump in her throat. "We made a deal," she protested. "He wasn't going to go out. He was going to wait for two days. For Mr. Metos."

"Yowl," said the cat.

"Why did he go out? Did he go to find the Footmen? They'll take him! Why did he go out?"

"Yowl," said the cat.

"What should I do? Should I wake Mom and Dad? What should I do?"

"Yowl," said the cat.

"They won't believe me. And even if they did…" Charlotte shuddered. The Footmen took children's shadows. No one had mentioned what they would do to adults. She looked at Mew and gulped.

"I have to go out there, don't I? I have to find him. By myself."

Mew cocked her head.

"Not by myself?"

"Yowl," said the cat.

Charlotte felt tears in her eyes. She inhaled deeply. "Okay," she nodded. "Let's go."

Her cousin was in trouble and she was going to save him. She could do this. She could be brave. She could be the heroine. She could also be kidnapped by shadow-stealing goons and forced into the Underworld, but that's okay. Charlotte slipped on her sneakers, then opened the front door and, heart in her throat, gazed out into the cold, black night. There was nothing to see-just sleeping houses and dim streetlamps and empty streets. And darkness. And whatever lurked behind the darkness. She took a deep breath and stepped out into the night.

The wind blew past her, and her pink flannel pajamas seemed to quaver in its mighty presence. Charlotte hugged herself. She looked back toward the front door, behind which was her very thick, warm, cozy winter coat, and sighed. There was no time. She had to get to Zee before…

"Where to?" she asked Mew.

Mew stood on the front step, nose sniffing, ears rotating like satellite dishes. Charlotte did not let herself wonder where Zee had gone or whom/what he had found, because then she would not be able to leave that spot. Courage, she decided, depended quite a bit on a failure of imagination.

And then, suddenly, Mew sprang into the night. Charlotte took off after her. Across the street the cat ran, into the neighbors' yard, through the fence, behind the garage, out into the alley, and then through another yard, and Charlotte followed, the whole way, ripping her pajamas on a bush. They emerged at the other side of the block, then went rushing down the street. The wind seemed to freeze Charlotte's cheeks, her breath chilled against her mouth, but all she concentrated on was the gray and white kitten who charged on ahead of her and who, occasionally, would stop and wait until Charlotte was in sight, before tearing off again.

And then, four blocks from her house, she saw her cousin. He was a block ahead of them, dressed only in his pajamas, barefoot, and walking as if he were taking a nice evening stroll. Relief sprang up in Charlotte, along with a sudden urge to throttle him. But there was no time; the Footmen could come any minute, and she did not think Mr. Metos could save them now