Furthermore(37)

“You know, I don’t know,” Oliver said, smiling. “I just ask people to give me things when I want them.”

“But that’s stealing!”

“For me, it’s asking.”

“Oh, Oliver,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “You’re awful.”

“Anyway,” he said, cheering up, “I happen to have some currency on my person. Just a moment.” Oliver reached into his bag and dug around a bit. He held up a few red coins (they looked a lot like buttons, but imagine them heavier) for just a moment before snapping them all in half, releasing their magic. One fink contained only an ounce of magic, but three finks would be three times as much, and a lot could be done with three ounces of magic. Working quickly with his hands, Oliver fashioned his finks into a simple pair of shoes, which, needless to say, was a complicated task for a thirteen-year-old. Most people didn’t bother making things from scratch anymore; most people traded in their finks (red) and stoppicks (blue) and tintons (green) for ready-made products fashioned together by expert artisans.

Alice was impressed.

More impressive still: the shoes themselves. They were simple ballet slippers made of bright blue satin with ribbon-laces trailing like glossy tendrils. Oliver could’ve magicked together any style of shoe for Alice, but he chose the slippers on purpose; they were the dancing shoes she never had, and Alice was deeply flattered by the gesture.

In fact, for a girl who didn’t care for shoes, Alice was surprised to find that she genuinely liked (almost loved) the slippers; but her pride kept her from telling Oliver the whole truth. So she smiled and thanked him, very politely stating that they were perfectly good (when indeed they were great), and entirely sensible (when in fact they felt luxurious), and Alice had already told so many small lies since arriving in Furthermore that she no longer noticed how easily she slipped into a few more. It had become so easy to fib little fibs and tell little fictions that truth had become gray; and Alice had no way of knowing that her one protection against Oliver (and all other untrustworthy souls) had failed long ago.

So she happily tied her blue shoes to her feet, danced around on tiptoe in anticipation, and followed Oliver into the dark.





Slumber really was quite tediously dark. I say this not only because it’s true, but because at this point in the story there is little other scenery to comment on. Alice and Oliver were leaving the city lights of Slumber far behind; from here there was no firelight visible, no floating bulb brightening the sky. It was dark. Cold.

Very quiet.

Alice and Oliver had been walking along in companionable silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts. They were heading toward somewhere or other—to a place where Alice would acquire a ruler and other miscellaneous necessities—but neither of the two children seemed, at least in the present moment, much interested in discussing it. Alice was loping along, poking at the dark with one finger and hoping to make a hole in it. She was searching for light, for answers, for Father. Her desperate need for him had led her here: wading through perfect darkness, navigating blindly a world she did not know.

Father had left on purpose.

Alice knew this now, and somehow that changed everything. Had Father left her on purpose? Or had he left Mother on purpose? What did all of it mean? Why would he leave their home for a land that might consume him? Why take that risk?

For what?

Alice’s head had filled with so many questions she’d run out of the space needed for paying attention. So she didn’t notice Oliver or the sudden spring in his step or the crooked smile on his face. Alice couldn’t have known what Oliver was thinking—so I really shouldn’t tell you, either—but I think we know each other well enough now to take care of each other’s secrets. So I’ll tell you this: Oliver was feeling relieved. He’d told Alice a bold lie not too long ago, and now he was finally sure he’d gotten away with it. Which was the lie I will not say—but Alice, Oliver had realized, was no longer immune to his charms.

Let’s not forget this.

Alice, oblivious, was still deep in thought, distracted only by her first glimpse of light in the distance: a single, pulsing beam that grew larger as they drew closer. Alice tapped Oliver on the arm and they were both soon alert, Oliver reclaiming his wariness as Alice grew once again curious.

She turned to Oliver. “What—”

“It’s the border crossing,” Oliver said briskly.

“Border crossing? I thought I was getting a ruler.”

Oliver nodded, and Alice could just barely make out his silhouette in the growing light. “Yes, you’ll be issued a ruler as soon as you receive clearance,” he said. “Slumber is the point of entry for all visitors. The real Furthermore is still beyond.”

Alice’s eyes and mouth went round at the same time. “And what do I have to do to gain clearance?”

Oliver hesitated. “I haven’t any absolute idea,” he said. “It’s different for everyone. But we’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?” He nodded ahead. The light was growing larger by the moment, and now it was nearly blinding. “Just a bit farther.”

Alice pressed forward, shielding her eyes against the glare. It was nearly impossible to see anything anymore; the brightness was almost painful. In fact, Alice was just in the middle of thinking she didn’t know how much more of this she could stand when suddenly, the light went dim.