Furthermore(59)

“That makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense. Furthermore doesn’t want to kill and conquer its meals with no fuss or fanfare. It’s far too easy that way—too boring.” Oliver shook his head. “No, this is a land that likes to play with its food.”

“But Oliver,” said Alice slowly, carefully. “Do you think it’s possible they’re torturing us a bit more than they do most people?”

Oliver’s eyebrows shot up his forehead in surprise. “What makes you say that?”

“Something the fox said to me.” Alice looked away. “He said that Father was charged with suspected espionage. They think he’s a Ferenwood spy come to meddle in their magic.”

“Wow.” Oliver let out a low whistle. “This is entirely new information to me. But goodness, it would explain a lot.”

Alice looked up. “You think so?”

Oliver nodded. “Your father’s early journals never expressed such fear as I’ve felt on my journeys. It would make sense that your father had done something to anger them; that we were on some kind of hateful watch list as a result—and that our path would be more intentionally treacherous.” He hesitated. “Which is why I’m now even more concerned that you’ve used your Tibbin.”

Alice bit her lip. “Is it really that awful to spend it? Have you never used one before?”

“Not ever. I had one the last time I was here, too, but I never trusted it. I don’t like accepting offers of help from Furthermore.”

Alice bit her knuckles. She was growing more anxious by the moment. “Well, I had no choice, did I? Anyway what does your Tibbin say this time?”

Oliver didn’t even have to look. He’d already memorized it. “Trust a friend who looks like one. And I haven’t any idea what it means. Gibberish, most likely.”

But Alice had just remembered something.

“Oliver,” she said, “the fox—”

“Yes?”

“The fox said that very thing to me. Just before he walked away. First he said Snap in three in case of emergency, and then he said Trust a friend who looks like one.” Alice frowned. “At first I thought it was nonsense, but now I think he was—”

“Telling you our Tibbins?” Oliver’s mouth had popped open. “They’re supposed to be private information!”

Alice shook her head. “All the fox said was We know. We all know. He also said he knew I was here to find Father.”

Now Oliver looked convinced. “They’re definitely watching us. They know our Tibbins and they know I lied to them at Border Control. Goodness . . . he was a very helpful fox, wasn’t he? I might’ve even liked him if he hadn’t tried to eat me.”

“Me too,” said Alice softly. “He was very kind otherwise. It was all very strange. He was a strange fox.” And then, more thoughtfully, “I do wonder . . . what do you think Father was doing here?”

It was a very good question, though perhaps one Alice should’ve asked sooner. The thing was, Alice hadn’t really wanted to think about why Father was here, because she hadn’t wanted to believe that Father had left home on purpose. (Alice, you will note, had a bad habit of ignoring matters of unpleasantness in her life [see also Alice’s fervent denial of her true magical ability], no matter the consequences.) Alice still hoped Father had been trapped or tricked or had been forced to come to Furthermore; she couldn’t understand why he would leave her voluntarily nor what he’d hoped to do here, in a land so far from Ferenwood.

“Well,” said Oliver, clasping and unclasping his hands. “It—it could’ve been for any number reasons, couldn’t it?”

“But why was he meddling in Furthermore magic? You don’t think he was really a spy, do you?”

“No,” Oliver said firmly. “I definitely don’t think he was a spy. I will say, however, that I think Furthermore is more than a little paranoid.”

“But then why would he come here? Why do visitors ever come to Futhermore?” Alice prodded. “What’s the draw?”

“Vacation?” Oliver said too loudly. “Perhaps a bit of travel—”

“Oliver, please,” said Alice. “You mustn’t hide things from me anymore. I can handle the truth, whatever it is.” She stared at him. “Really, I can.”

“Honestly, Alice.” He sighed. “Your father’s motives, I don’t truly know. I have only my assumptions.”

“And they are?”

Oliver shrugged. “Visitors only ever travel to Furthermore when they want something they can’t otherwise procure. It’s a land that deals in the dangerous and the unlawful; if what you want exists nowhere else, it’s likely to exist here. But getting here is incredibly complicated. It’s a perilous journey, and the stakes are too high for nonessential wants and needs. No,” Oliver said, shaking his head. “People only ever come to Furthermore when they are in desperate need of something important. Something worth all the risks.” He looked up, locked eyes with Alice. “So, you tell me,” he said. “Is there something your father wants more than anything else in the world?”

Alice hesitated, thinking carefully before answering. “I don’t think so,” she finally said. “I confess I wouldn’t really know.”