Christopher Golden - The Shadow Men

“The North End had been purely Irish, but in just a handful of years it was transformed. Ten thousand Irish moved out, and fifteen thousand Italians moved in.”

Trix studied her eyes, the lines in her face. “And that’s why Thomas McGee did what he did.”

Veronica nodded. “The Italians were flooding in, and the influence of the Irish began to wane. The Brahmins had never allowed them a seat at the table. But in McGee, the soul of the city had chosen an Irishman as its Oracle. Boston had an Irish spirit in that era, but McGee knew that could change.”

“So he wasn’t supposed to choose the next Oracle?” Jim asked.

“This isn’t science,” Veronica said. “I don’t know the entire history of all of the Oracles of the Great Cities of the World, but certainly an Oracle can train his or her heir, if the Oracle has the best interests of the city at heart. McGee feared that when he died the soul of the city would supersede his choice.”

Trix nodded, gesturing for her to move on. “We know this part. McGee splintered the city, so where there was one, now there were three.”

“Yes,” Veronica said, holding up a hand and counting them on her fingers. “First is this Boston, the one you know. Let’s call it Boston A. As far as I know it is unaffected, the city the way it would have been without McGee’s botched magic. The other two are the splinters, their realities somewhat weaker for that. In Boston B, the Oracles have been Irish ever since McGee, and the city has developed for the past twelve decades or so under heavy Irish influence. In Boston C, the opposite happened, with the Irish all but absent, and the city developing under the guidance of the Brahmins but without the tempering influences of its immigrant working class.”

“You’ve been there,” Jim said eagerly. “To these other Bostons.”

“As Oracle, I can never leave my city. My Boston. But I’ve met those who have traveled from one to the other-”

“Like Jenny and Holly,” Trix supplied.

Veronica shook her head. “Not really. Well, perhaps like Holly.”

“What do you mean?” Jim asked worriedly.

“Holly is a Unique, of course,” Veronica said. “In the other two Bostons, there was no Jim to fall in love with Jenny. In those cities, Holly Banks was never born.”

Jim looked as though he might be sick. “And Jenny?”

“No. There are facets of Jenny.”

“Facets,” Jim murmured, like he was testing the word on his tongue.

“So it doesn’t happen often?” Trix prodded. “People like Jenny, who aren’t Uniques, crossing over?”

Veronica seemed to consider her words a moment before forging onward. “Think of the cities as all existing in the same location, just slightly out of sync with one another. A kind of membrane separates them, and that is called the In-Between. It’s a limbo place, a vast nothing, but it… I suppose you could say that it breathes. Better yet, imagine the sea, waves rolling up onto the shore. When there is a storm or some other disturbance, the tide rises higher, sweeps farther inland before it withdraws and pulls things out to sea. The membrane can be like that. It expanded into our Boston for just a moment, and when it drew back it took Jenny and Holly with it. On rare occasions people have been pulled across. Where the cities are identical, those people vanish from one Boston and appear in the same spot in the other. But where the cities are different… sometimes there are voids, and there have been cases of people being dragged into the In-Between and lost there.”

“Jenny and Holly…,” Jim began.

“No. That is why I wanted you to take me to the bookstore where they vanished. The store exists in all three Bostons. Jenny and Holly have not been lost in the void. They’re in one of those other Bostons right now, probably very confused and very afraid, but alive.”

“So, how do we go after them?” Trix asked.

“I’ll show you the way,” Veronica said. “The existence of a Jenny in each world provides a kind of counter-pressure on that membrane that works to hold each facet in its place. But Uniques have little more than expectation and perception holding them in place. If you know how to look for the other Bostons, how to see the places where they are different, you can walk through in places where others would be lost to the void.”

“But which Boston are they in?” Jim asked. “The Irish or the Brahmin?”

“That,” Veronica said, “is something the two of you will have to find out for me.” She corrected herself. “For yourselves. ”

Trix studied the old woman. “The people this has happened to before-have any of them ever come back?”

Veronica shook her head. “I’m afraid not. But usually they are never missed. Ordinary people, those with facets in the other Bostons, never even know that they’ve lost someone. The splintered cities change around them. The two of you both remember Jenny and Holly because you’re Uniques. The rest of this world has forgotten them. They’ve been erased.”

“Erased,” Jim repeated, his voice hollow. “Jesus. That sounds so permanent. What happens when we bring them back? Is it even possible to bring them back?”

Veronica’s expression turned darker than ever. She turned to look out the night-black window. “There are thin places where you might get them through. Once I show you how to see properly, you’ll be able to tell.” She glanced upward to indicate the half-burned study. “But now that you understand, there’s something else you need to know.”

“What’s that?” Jim asked.

“Every time someone is drawn from one Boston to another-someone with facets in the other cities-the schism deteriorates more. And if Jenny encounters her other facets, which seems likely, given that she and Holly will be searching for traces of the life they’ve known, that will exacerbate the situation.”

“What do you mean, the schism is deteriorating?” Trix asked.

“I suspect that the three Bostons might be reintegrating.”

“Wouldn’t that be a good thing?” Jim said. “This is all… well, it’s unnatural, isn’t it? What this McGee did? It’s not supposed to be like this, so what’s wrong with it all going back to normal? With there being only one Boston?”

“It could be a good thing,” Veronica said, glancing away as if distracted, “but there’s also a chance that the city would be left in ruins.”

Trix stared at her a moment, then reached out and drank her tea down, wishing it was whiskey.

“So, you’re saying Jenny and Holly being over there could trigger this thing?” Jim said.

“No,” Veronica said, “it’s happening already. But they could speed up the process. I may be able to stop the deterioration, but not alone. I need the help of the Oracles of the other Bostons, but I can’t pass through into their cities myself. I’ve written letters to them, intending to find a Unique ally who would carry them for me.”

Trix nodded. “That’s why you said this was providential, us coming to you.”

“It does seem that some greater power is at work here, yes.” She smiled, and Trix couldn’t help thinking her expression skull-like.

“You want us to deliver these letters to the two other Oracles,” Jim said.

“And they will help you locate Jenny and Holly,” Veronica replied.

Jim stood. “Come on, Trix. We know all we need to know. We’re wasting time.” He looked at Veronica. “Show us, please. Show us how to cross over. And give us those letters. We’ll deliver them for you.”

Veronica exhaled, and Trix saw a flicker of something pass across her face. Fear? She thought not. It was something lighter but deeper.

“Remember to hurry,” Veronica said. “And you must not give the letters to anyone but the Oracles themselves, and only at the addresses on the envelopes.”