Zephario lifted his hands, cupped side by side to show how small his beloved son had been. Candy took the opportunity to take hold of one of his hands.
“Here,” she said. “Your cards.”
“Please. You keep them. Use them. They are already mapped with what I’ve learned. Now you add your own journeys to mine and it’s all part of the Thread.”
“What?”
“The Thread. Do you not know of it?”
“No. But I do believe there is a pattern in the Hours; a hidden connection, which will show the greater order of things when the time is right.”
“Ah,” said Zephario, “you
“Everything . . . that’s in the air a lot, isn’t it?”
“Yes, that or Nothing at All. It’s an Age of Absolutes.”
“What comes after this Age?”
“I’ve no idea. Why would I?”
“You must have asked the cards how this is all going to end.”
“The cards don’t tell the future. It hasn’t happened yet. We hope that certain things will happen. But none of it’s guaranteed. We may want one kind of future and get another kind entirely. My daughters used to sing a rhyme. All these years later I still hear it.
“
“We used to sing it too,” Candy said. “Why tell me this now?
“Because now is all there is. And because you sense
“Oh,” Candy said.
“She’s not alone, is she?”
“No, of course not. She must have at least seven thousand stitchlings with her. That’s what Christopher told me.”
“Is he with her now?”
“I doubt it. She thinks he’s dead. Drowned in the streets of Chickentown.”
“But he isn’t, is he? I came here to find you so that you could help make peace between us. I want to see my son, one last time before I die. He’s all I have, lady. He’s all that I have left to love.”
“You might find loving him a bit difficult. He’s no saint.”
“Well, nor was I. When he was born I was one of the most feared men in the Abarat. I thought that was something to be proud of, in my stupidity. I made it a point of pride to burn every harvest I hadn’t planted and tear down every tower that I hadn’t built. When I think of the harm I did . . .” He paused, drawing a ragged breath. Whatever memories his mind was seeing, they made him weep. “. . . My son can do no worse. I was only forty-two when the fire destroyed the mansion. It killed my wife, and all the children except for Christopher. Forty-two! It’s nothing, forty-two. But I managed to fill up that little time with so many shameful things. Terrible things. I just wanted to tell Christopher there’s still time . . .”
“Still time to do what?” Candy said.
“Heal those he’s hurt,” Zephario said.
“You can’t heal the dead.”
“You’re quite the plain speaker, aren’t you?”
“It’s the truth.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it. My son has done a lot of terrible things. I see the stain he leaves behind him, on whatever he’s touched. Even on you.”
Candy suddenly felt as though somebody had just emptied a bucket of sewer water over her head. How clear was the stain on her that a blind man could see it?
“You do know it wasn’t me he wanted, right? It was Princess Boa. She’d been hidden in me all my life. I didn’t know she was there until . . . until I found the Abarat. Or it found me.”
“Are you sure?”
“About what?”
“Christopher wanting Boa and not you?”
“Yes. I know it,” Candy said, nodding.
“I saw you in a vision once, while I was laying out the cards. I had no idea who you were, but you were talking to Christopher, who was lying down, barely able to lift his head . . .”
“That was back in Chickentown. Yes. He was very weak. I thought for certain he was going to die. He wanted to talk to Boa, and of course I let him.”
“What did he want from her?”
“He wanted them to die together.”
“And she was ready to go along with that?”
“No, I don’t think she was. I can’t be sure . . .”
“Even though you were sharing a mind?”
“Sometimes I couldn’t find her. She hid from me. Even in my own head. Why does it matter?”
“Does he know that you and the Princess are—?”
“No longer together? Yes, he knows. I saw him, in Tazmagor. He came to find me . . . well, no, to find
Some tension that Candy hadn’t seen in the blind man’s face until now suddenly melted away.
“You know that for certain?”
“What? That he’d wanted to save my life? Or her life? Yes. Yes, I know that for certain. Why? Does it matter?”
“That he has a shred of goodness in him? That he cares enough about somebody to put himself in harm’s way? Yes, it matters a great deal. Only to me, perhaps. But then I’m the only one who has to live with the knowledge anyway.”
“The knowledge of . . .”
“All the terrible things he did. The families he destroyed. The love he destroyed. I was a bad man before the fire, Candy. I’ll be the first to say so. But I didn’t teach him to murder people with their own nightmares. That was my mother’s doing. The Mad Hag of Gorgossium . . . and now our Empress and executioner. She’s there . . .” As he spoke, he pointed to the card that had surfaced in Candy’s hands. She’d been sifting through them as they talked and one had drawn the blind man’s attention. “My mother,” he said.
The image on the card was one of heart-stopping terror. In a bare room, lacking even the most rudimentary comfort or decoration was a single occupant: a small unclothed figure stood looking at a window that filled most of the left-hand quadrant of the picture. Through it, staring down at him, was the vast bloodless face of a devourer, its teeth glittering.
“I don’t think this is your mother,” Candy said.
“It’s a symbol, not a likeness,” Zephario replied. “There is a difference. That thing at the window represents the power that allowed my mother to do all that she’s done. It is Nephauree. One of Those Who Walk Behind the Stars.”
Candy could feel cold emanating from the painted image. It made her head throb.
“It’s Nephauree magic she wields. That’s why she’s been able to do so much harm. I pray my son has not
