Abarat: Absolute Midnight

Carrion was indeed made of filth. But in the end that was the fate of all flesh, wasn’t it? Everything decayed, went back to dirt, to the earth. But that wasn’t the whole story. People weren’t just walking sacks of meat. Unlike Carrion, she’d started to understand that there was something eternal, underlying, in everyone, perhaps even everything. A soul, for want of a better word, which—even when time had dimmed her sight and dulled her memories—would burn as brightly as it burned now.

Even if her memories seeped away, the sweet and sour of her life stolen from the meat of her mind, her soul would know its way to the net of remembrance that was being cast out over her life and all that touched it, gently retrieving the details of every moment. Cast out over and over, world without end. It wasn’t so surprising that these thoughts were being discussed in the room at the back of her head, while in the front of her mind the part of her that was in the here and now continued to talk with her friends. If ever there was a time in her life that she needed the comfort of this faith in the Eternal, it was Here and Now. She was part of a struggle that was older than life: the battle between Light and Darkness.

She was certain she belonged in this moment, in the company of these loving friends. She was here, in this world she loved so much, to play a part in its future. She didn’t understand, nor even particularly care to, how she had come to have a part in the approaching struggle. But everything she’d done since she’d first come here—her meeting with Malingo; with Wolfswinkel; her visit to the Time Out of Time; her pursuit of her own secret history that she’d pieced together from many sources; her strange relationship with Carrion; and her final liberation from the Princess Boa—all of it had been a preparation, an education, for being alive at this moment.

“What are you thinking about?” Malingo inquired.

“Everything,” she replied.

The atmosphere down at the harbor, which had been so odd when they’d got off the ferry, was even odder now. Some of the seabirds were still there, sitting in silent rows like bored jurists awaiting the beginning of a trial. But most of the people had left, and those who remained were gathered around a makeshift pulpit from which a crazed minister with long white hair and one ragged wing was preaching to them.

Candy listened to the creature talk about how the righteous would find their way to the light and the rest go into darkness; that was all she could stomach. She blocked its voice out, and looked in the opposite direction only to find that the missing seabirds had also found themselves a spiritual leader. Having forsaken their perch along the harbor wall they were now gathered in front of one of the shuttered restaurants, attending with many a beady black eye to a very large but very antiquated bird that looked like an albino vulture with a touch of pterodactyl in its blood. It was addressing its congregation in a language of crawings and chitterings, which was a great deal more complex, even eloquent, than the screech of a seagull.

As for the captains and crews of the small fishing boats that were tied up alongside the quayside, they had all departed, presumably to be with their families at this troubling time, or to drink in solitude.

“So now what do we do?” said Malingo, surveying the deserted dock.

“We choose boats that look sturdy and are fueled up, and we take them,” Eddie said.

“Just take them?”

“Yes! Lordy Lou, this isn’t the time to be arguing the moral niceties of the thing. There’s nobody here to barter with anyway.”

“Do we have to take boats?” Clyde said. “What about one of your glyphs?”

“I think we could probably conjure up a glyph between us but trust me, we don’t want to be in the air right now. Not with those things up there.”

“We’re safer on water,” Tom said.

“I trust Mama Izabella,” Candy said. “She’s not afraid of the dark. So we take some boats, yes? We can apologize when the lights go on again!”

“I wish there were some weapons we could lay our hands on too,” Geneva said.

“Maybe some harpoons?” Eddie suggested.

“It’s worth a look . . .” Geneva said. “I’ll take whatever we can find. We don’t know what we’re going to be up against.”

“The worst of the worst,” Eddie said grimly. Since he’d confessed his monster-trapping past, and the grim price it had cost his brothers, Candy realized that Eddie had nothing left to lose. The sight of his pain made her speak up.

“We’re all going off in different directions,” she said, “and who knows when we’ll see one another again. Or even if. So I just want to say that I love you. And I’ve been blessed to have this time with you. I want you to know you’re the best friends anyone could have.”

She looked from face to face as she spoke, not even attempting to put on a smile. If she’d understood Carrion correctly, then this Midnight would mark the end of the Abarat as they’d all known it. And what would be left? An archipelago ruled over by the monstrous Empress, Mater Motley? Or simply a wasteland, destroyed by the poisonous work of the fiends this darkness would unleash?

As Malingo and Clyde searched for weapons, boats were chosen. Geneva, who was traveling in search of Finnegan, chose a small, sleek vessel that looked to have been designed for sport rather than commercial fishing. It was called The Loner. Two-Toed Tom took the helm of a vessel called simply Big Boat, which he, Betty, and Clyde chose for its size, given that they were hoping to evacuate more than just one person. Candy chose for sentiment’s sake a boat that reminded her of the harrowing journey on the Parroto Parroto: Malingo, Legitimate Eddie, and the Johns agreed to join her. John Mischief instantly had his brothers democratically vote him the Captain.

All three boats had lanterns hanging from their masts and from the eaves of their wheelhouses, but at Candy’s suggestion they went aboard several other vessels moored in the vicinity and borrowed their lanterns too. If they were truly going to meet a wave of darkness out there then they needed to be carrying as many light sources as possible. There was some debate as to whether they should go back to the market and get some provisions to sustain them, but before they could come to a conclusion on the matter it was taken out of their hands by the fact that six or seven of the potbellied minister’s righteous congregation had noticed Candy and her friends. They broke away from the assembly, yelling: “Thieves! You get away from those boats!”

“I’ll be going then,” Geneva said briskly. “I’ll see you all again soon. Travel safely.”

So saying, she fired up her boat and sped away from the dock.

The Big Boat, carrying Betty and Clyde, and captained by Tom, was right behind. The only thing holding up the departure of the third boat, The Piper, was dissention among the John Brothers about who was going to be second-in-command.

“We don’t have time for this!” Candy said. “Get moving! Right now!”

Her intervention had an immediate effect. The brothers grabbed the wheel and readied themselves.

The fastest member of the minister’s congregation was a young man with mottled purple-and-white skin and a very fierce look on his face. Without waiting for the others to catch up with him he leaped into The Piper, and went straight for Malingo, who was attempting to untie the rope that tethered the boat to the dock. Candy reacted straightaway, catching hold of the collar of his jacket and pulling the young man toward her. He wasn’t any taller than she was, but he was lean and strong and, despite the fact that he was trying to stop them, there was something in his eyes that—

He wrenched himself free and turned on Candy, yelling: “Stop! Right now!”

“Got no time!” Candy said, shaking away whatever it was she had felt a moment ago. “And no choice!”

There were yells meanwhile, from other members of the minister’s congregation.

“We’re coming, Gazza!” one of them yelled. “Don’t let them go!”

In a few more seconds, Candy knew, all would be lost. They’d never get away.

“Mischief!” she yelled.

At that very moment, The Piper shuddered as the engine turned on, and then jerked forward with such violence that Malingo, the piebald Gazza, and Candy were all thrown down onto the mess of nets and floats that littered the deck. Eddie, who was much shorter and therefore steadier, was the only one not to fall. He had found a large machete somewhere, and holding it aloft, he raced to the stern of The Piper where the rope still kept the boat from departing the dock. Candy sat up, throwing off a net stinking of fish in which she’d landed, only to see Legitimate, wielding the machete like a man who’d done it many a