But I have to try.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The other Gerald strode ahead, Bibbie by his side, clearly enjoying himself. Like a child on an outing. Then, realizing he’d left his reluctant guest behind he slowed and, not turning, raised his right hand. “Come along, Professor. I hate people who dawdle.” He waggled a finger and the air sizzled, suggestively. “Chop chop!”
“Sorry,” he muttered, and prudently lengthened his stride.
To his surprise Bibbie slowed her pace until he’d caught up with her. Even more surprisingly she fell into step beside him and linked one silken arm through his.
“Now tell me, Gerry,” she said, archly playful. “The Bibbie in your world-is she as pretty and as scintillating and as fascinating as me?”
“Um…” He looked down at the gloved hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, then glanced at the other Gerald, sauntering ahead. Every instinct told him the man would be… possessive. But if he snubbed her, the other Gerald would probably take offense. And if he praised his Bibbie, this one would probably slap him-or worse. Talk about tap-dancing on eggshells. “My-I mean, the other Bibbie? She’s-ah-she’s different. You know. She’s her own person.”
“Hmmph,” said Bibbie, wrinkling her perfect nose. “ Different. I know what that means. I used to be repressed too. Oh, I thought I was daring, flouting the rules, playing with stupid stuff like ethergenics. Ha. As if silly ethergenics is the cutting edge of witchcraft. But then you-I mean he — came back from New Ottosland and…” She sighed. “Well. Everything changed.”
“For the better?” he asked quietly, and looked at her sidelong. Beneath the polished confidence, could he sense doubt? And if he could… I have to risk it. I might not get another chance. “Bibbie-sometimes what starts off as fun and games can turn into something else. Something frightening. If you’re not happy-if you’re having second thoughts-”
She snatched her arm back. Scorched him with her eyes. “Don’t be silly. I’ve never been happier. The things I can do now-all my dreams are coming true! If you think I have any regrets, Gerry, then it’s clear as glass you don’t know me at all.”
Soft laughter in front of them. “Now, now, Professor,” said the other Gerald, spinning around to walk backwards. His eyes were glittering with a gleeful malice. “Don’t you be naughty. She’s my Emmerabiblia. If you didn’t get anywhere with yours, well, that’s too bad. You’ve missed out on quite a treat. But in case you’re forgetting, you and I are singletons. Spoiled only children. And everybody knows only children don’t share.”
He made himself hold his counterpart’s intimidating gaze. “We used to.”
“Oh, come on, Professor,” the other Gerald retorted. “This is you you’re talking to, remember? We only shared then because the cousins were bullies and we were too afraid to fight back. But I’m not afraid of bullies any more. Even better, I’m not afraid of myself. On the contrary, I’ve embraced myself. I adore the new me.” A quick, sly smile. “And you will too. In time. I promise.”
Angry despair robbed him of speech for a moment. No, I’m pretty sure I won’t. But there was no point arguing. He cleared his throat. “Look-Gerald-what are we doing here, exactly?”
“We’re on a tour, Professor,” his counterpart said brightly, still walking backwards, as light and confident on his feet as a circus performer. “Trust me, the exhibits here are marvelously educational. The way I see it, they might even save your life.”
Exhibits? That’s what those opaque domes were? So had this Gerald turned the ceremonial parade ground into some kind of open-air museum? As his counterpart spun around to face forward again, fingers summoning Bibbie to his side with an impatient snap, he took another look at the dome directly ahead.
This close, the level of ambient thaumaturgics in the ether was much higher. So high, in fact, that the air felt almost syrupy. A little hard to push through. Whatever was hidden within that opaque dome it was surrounded by impressively powerful incants. His own potentia was twitching in response-but until this moment he hadn’t noticed. Instead he’d let himself be distracted by the Gerald and Bibbie strolling in front of him. Damn. He really was off his game. And why was that? The shock of his abrupt transdimensional dislocation? Or maybe the equally disconcerting effect of suddenly being turned into a twin. Seeing Melissande shadbolted, and Bibbie being cruel. And then he shook himself.
It doesn’t matter why. You can’t afford to be off your game, Dunnywood, so bloody well pull yourself together. You’re a trained prqfessional troubleshooter. A janitor. Situations like this are meant to be your meat and drink.
True. Except what he was facing here and now felt like having to drink dry an ocean and swallow a continent’s worth of cows.
“And here we are!” announced the other Gerald, halting. “At what you might call Exhibit A, Professor. Or-as I prefer to think of it-Object Lesson Number One.” He laughed. “I’ll give you three guesses what’s inside.”
He stared at the shimmering, impenetrable dome. “You could give me thirty and it wouldn’t make a difference. If you want to show me something, Gerald, then show me. I don’t understand why we need to play games.”
That earned him a sharp look. “Trust me, Professor, I’m not playing. Just ask Lional if you don’t believe me.”
A fingersnap, one whispered word, and a moment later the opaque dome turned to mist and blew away. The ether sighed with the release of thaumic stresses. Heart thudding, Gerald stared at what was now revealed.
Just ask Lional…
Who, like his precious dragon, was dead and preserved with powerful incants. Dead and staked to a rectangle of turf, pinned in place with dragon teeth. Dead with the blood still fresh, with the wounds that killed him still gaping, dead with his mouth open in one last, frozen scream.
“Oh, Professor,” said the other Gerald, watching. “You feel sorry for him? After the cave?”
Slowly he lowered his hand from his mouth. Took a deep breath, even though the syrupy air stank of foul incants, and shook his head. “No, Gerald. Not for him.”
His counterpart laughed, incredulous. “For me? Really? Do I look like I need your pathetic pity?”
Sickened, he risked another glance at Lional. “No.”
“Professor…” The other Gerald ran a hand over his hair, everything about him impatient and irked. “I’m disappointed. I never would’ve pegged you as a hypocrite. You admitted it yourself-the Lional in your world is dead. So what-you expect me to believe he choked on a fishbone?”
Gerald shook his head. “No. I killed him. Him and the dragon together. But afterwards I gave him to Mel and Rupert for a decent, private burial. I didn’t-I couldn’t- ” He had to wait until his voice was trustworthy. “Why is he here? Like this. Why have you-”
“Oh, Professor,” snapped his counterpart. “Why d’you think? Because a picture is worth a thousand words, isn’t it?”
“The parade ground’s only empty this morning,” Bibbie added. She seemed completely unconcerned by the mutilated man-corpse-at her feet. “As a special treat for you, Gerry. Ordinarily it’s jam-packed, you know. Because it’s the law that everyone in Ott comes to visit at least once a week, every week. And if you don’t live in Ott it’s once a month, which I think is very reasonable.” She stroked the other Gerald’s arm. “Kind of like church, really, only far less boring.”
Dazed, he stared at them. “Everyone? You mean even the children are-”
“Oh, especially the children,” she said, her beautiful blue eyes wide. “It’s very important that they understand.”
Understand what? he wanted to scream. That you and your young man are stark staring bloody bonkers?
“So, anyway,” said the other Gerald, and snapped his fingers again. Instantly that smoky opacity began to reform, bowl-like, mercifully obliterating Lional from sight. “That’s what happened to Lional. Good riddance to bad rubbish, as they wisely say. And now let’s keep on, because the day’s not getting any younger and like I said,
