Anne Ursu - The Shadow Thieves

But she couldn't. She had a job to do, and she would do it bravely and well, even if she didn't have her gentlemanly cousin to go first all the time. And what of Zee? She hadn't been able to give him any food, any water. What were they doing to him now? Would Philonecron hurt him? Had he done his part, and were the shadows now on the march?

Her muscles protested, her bones rebelled, but Charlotte kept moving. If she could just get to Hades, she could stop all this. If she could just get to Hades, everything would be all right.

And then finally, finally, she reached the gates to the City-imposing gates of intricately wrought iron framed by black stone. The archway was inscribed with words Charlotte could not read.

She turned to the column of the Dead. "Shall we go in?"

The Dead froze.

"What?"

They began to back away. Charlotte's heart flipped, and she looked wildly around.

"More vampires?"

They backed away still farther. Charlotte looked to the gates and then back at them.

"You're stopping here? You don't want to come in?" No, it appeared not. The truth began to dawn on Charlotte.

"You can't go into the City, can you?… You're not allowed?… Well, who's it for, then?"

Silent, the Dead faded off into the distance. As they did, the gates creaked open for Charlotte. She took a final look behind her and then stepped into the City of Death.

CHARLOTTE DIDN'T KNOW WHAT SHE HAD BEEN expecting- something sort of medieval, sort of evil. Creepy, haunted-looking buildings, demons swooping in and out, lots of fire and skulls and people being tortured here and there. But it wasn't that at all. The City was bustling with activity. Official-looking buildings made of stone lined the roads, gaslights lit the streets, and pairs of ox-size black horses pulled carriages and carts with signs like PEGASUS DELIVERY SERVICE or AJAX AND SONS' GROCERY.

It would have looked like a picture of Victorian London, except for the strange reddish gray of the sky, the odd smell of burned leaves in the air, and the fact that the creatures on the street were decidedly not British. There were many who looked like men, like Philonecron- extremely tall, with four limbs and human faces, and dressed in bowler hats and frock coats. Others flew, crawled, or slithered-winged blue women, trotting centaurs, giant slugs, half-fish-half-men who carried tanks of water over their heads, hundred-eyed creatures, hundred-eared creatures, snake-haired women, and woman-haired snakes. All of them looked like they had very important places to be.

Many stared at Charlotte as she passed; some stopped right where they were and gaped. Each time Charlotte took a deep breath and snapped, "I'm going to the Palace."

Which made them stare all the harder, but no one tried to stop her. Or, for that matter, eat her.

Through the winding, gaslit streets Charlotte went, heading always toward the Palace at the City center-past office buildings with signs like DEPARTMENT OF MORALE PROMOTION and INTERNAL OPERATIONS AGENCY and the like. A giant, mausoleum-like building proved to be a school, and what seemed to be a cemetery next to it was a playground. Vast neighborhoods of stone houses stretched off like a network of tombs. She went past restaurants and clubs, in which strode men that could be Philonecron's brothers, and in the middle of the City, just before the Palace, there was a park.

Not an Underworld park, rocky and bare, with pools of blood for community swimming. An Upperworld park, with a pretty gate and green grass and flowers and trees and benches and a giant, sparkling, crystal clear lake that looked like summertime and safety and warmth and life. The Palace loomed up ahead, waiting for her-but Charlotte couldn't help it; she stepped into the park.

As soon as she crossed the gate, the rest of the Underworld disappeared. Gone was the Palace, the City, the musty, horrid smell. Gone was the ever present awareness of terror and Death and loneliness. Charlotte was back in the Upperworld, in a vast green park on the most beautiful day ever made. The sun shone warmly overhead, and puffy white clouds floated through the air. The wind carried the scent of lilacs. She walked up to a great elm tree, on which hung strange, wrinkled brown fruit like large, shriveled-up eggplants, the sun beaming down through the leaves. The lake sparkled and gleamed and seemed to beckon to Charlotte. She walked up to it and stared. She wanted to drink from it, dive in it, bathe herself and then swim off into forever-but she was pretty sure she shouldn't. A small black-and-white bird burst from the lake and up into the sky, splashing water in his wake, then a yellow one followed, then a purple and orange bird, then an all white one. They soared off into the distance, into the vastness of the blue sky. Charlotte's heart leaped with joy- she couldn't stay, she had to go, but oh, she never wanted to leave. She walked over to a bench and sat down for a minute, closing her eyes and lifting her face in the air, basking in the warmth of the sun.

Her eyes popped open. Was that a noise? She turned her head back to the lake. There was a small, skinny old man in overalls, scattering birdseed along the banks, who had not been there before. He had pure white skin, with eyes like the lake in front of him. His face was gaunt and wrinkled, and wavy white hair hung past his shoulders. He looked up and started.

"Hello?" his gravelly voice rang through the air.

"Um, hi," Charlotte said, taking a step back and checking his mouth for fangs.

"I'm sorry, but…"- he stared at her, blinking-"Are you mortal?"

Charlotte nodded slowly.

"Oh my!" he said. "Oh my!"

Charlotte looked around uncomfortably. It was just her luck to have some creepy guy ruin paradise for her. "Listen…" He took a step toward her. "Could you do me a favor? Could you look into the lake for me?"

"What?"

"Just stand on the bank and look at the lake. I just want you to tell me what you see."

Charlotte stared at him suspiciously.

He held up his hands and smiled kindly. "I'm not going to play any tricks or push you in or anything. I'll stand back here. I just want to know what you see. Please?"

Actually, the old guy wasn't so creepy. He seemed fairly nice, really. But…

"Wait," Charlotte said. "Where are we?" She shook her head. The whole place had the feel of a dream, but she knew she was awake. "I have to go. I have to get back to the Underworld. I have to hurry."

The man nodded. "We're still in the City. I just like it better this way." He gestured around him. Charlotte didn't blame him. "You don't have to worry, time doesn't pass here, not like it does in the rest of the Underworld."

Charlotte bit her lip. She couldn't help it; she was a little curious about what was going on. And the lake was just so peaceful-she'd seen so many ugly, horrible, awful, deathly things today, she couldn't help wanting a little beauty. Another small bird broke through the water and flew up to the sky.

Charlotte took a deep breath, stepped forward, casting a glance back at the man to make sure he was not, indeed, going to push her in, and then gazed down at the lake.

As she looked down at the lake's surface, something flickered in front of her-not quite a reflection, just the idea of one-and then disappeared. And then Charlotte saw nothing reflected in the lake, nothing at all. She shivered a little. Was she a vampire now too? She looked up at the old man. "Nothing," she said. "Nothing there."

"Not your own reflection?"

"At first, maybe," Charlotte said. "But then nothing."

"Fascinating!" He peered at her. "Would you describe yourself as unformed?"

Charlotte took a step back. This was getting a little personal.