Tesla put her hand to block Phoebe's approach. "I mean it," she said. Phoebe pushed her arm aside. "I want to look," she said forcibly, and put her face to the window. "I don't see anything."
"it came and went."
"Or it was never there," Phoebe replied. She looked back at Tesla. "You don't look so good," she said.
"I don'tfeel so good."
"Have you got a phobia?"
Tesla shook her head. "Not about snakes." She reached out and gently plucked at Phoebe's arm. "I really think we should get out of here." Either the grim tone in her voice, or the look on her ashen face apparently was enough to convince Phoebe she was deadly serious, because now she too retreated from the back door.
"Maybe I was just imagining it," Tesla replied, hoping to any God who'd listen that this was true. She was ready for anything but Lix.
With Phoebe trailing after her she made her way back round to the front of the house, and up the path to the street.
"Happy now?" Phoebe said.
"Just walk with me, will you?" Tesla said, and set the pace until they'd put fifty yards between themselves and the Toothaker house. Only then did Tesla slow down.
"Happy now?" Phoebe said again, this time a little testily.
Tesia stood staring up at the sky, and drew several long, calming breaths before she said, "This is worse than I thought."
"What is? What are you talking about?"
Tesia drew another deep breath. "I think there's something evil in that house," she replied.
Phoebe glanced back down the street, which looked more serene than ever as the afternoon drew on. "I know it's hard to believe-"
"Oh no," Phoebe said flatly. "I can believe it." When she looked back at Tesla she was wearing a small, tight smile. "This place is cruel," she said. "It doesn't look it, but it is."
Tesia began to think maybe there'd been a certain synchronicity in their meetings. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," she said. "Okay. I'm not going to try and-2'
"I mean yes," Phoebe said. "Yes, I do want to talk about it."
Six
"There's something wrong with the sea."
Joe sat up, and looked down the shore towards the booming surf. The waters were almost velvety, the waves large enough to tempt a surfer, but curling and breaking more slowly than those on any terrestrial shore. Flecks of irides cence rose in their lavish curl, and glittered on their crests.
"It's beautiful," he said. Noah grunted. "Look out there," he said, and pointed out beyond the breakers, to the place where the horizon should have been. Black and gray and green pillars of clouds were apparently rising from the sea as though some titanic heat was turning the waters to steam. The heavens, meanwhile, were failing in floods and fires. It was a spectacle the scale of which Joe had never conceived before, like a scene from the making of the world, or its unmaking.
"What's causing all that?"
"I don't want to speak the words until I'm certain," Noah said. "But I begin to think we should be careful, even here."
"Careful about what?"
"About waiting for the likes of that to come our way," he said, and pointed along the shore.
Three or four miles from where they stood he could see the roofs and spires of a city. Liverpool, he presumed. In between, perhaps a quarter of that distance away, was an approaching procession. "That's a Blessedm'n," Noah said, "I think we're better away, Joe."
'Why?" Joe wanted to know. "What's a Blessedm'n?"
'One who conjures," Noah said. "Perhaps the one who opened this door."
"Don't you want to wait and thank him?" Joe said, still studying the procession. There were perhaps thirty in the line, some of them on horseback; one, it seemed, on a camel.
"The door wasn't opened for me," Noah replied.
"Who was it opened for?" There was no answer. Joe looked round to see that Noah was once again staring out towards the apocalyptic storm that blocked the horizon. "Something out there?" he said.
"Maybe," Noah replied. Half a dozen questions appeared in Joe's head at the same time. If what was out there was coming here, what would happen to the shore? And to the city? And if it passed over the threshold, would the storm it brought go with it? Down the mountain, to Everville? to Phoebe?
Oh my God, to Phoebe?
"I have to go back," he said.
"You can't."
"I can and I will," Joe said, turning and starting back towards the crack. It was not hidden here, as it was on the mountain. It crackled like a rod of black lightning against the shifting sky. was it his imagination, or was it wider and taller than it had been?
"I promised you power, Joe," Noah called after him. "And I still have it to give."
Joe turned on his heel. "So give it to me and let me go," he said. Noah stared at the ground. "It's not as easy as that, my friend."
"What do you mean?"
"I can't grant you power here."
"On the other side, you said."
"Yes, I did. I know I did. But that wasn't quite the truth." He looked up at Joe now, his oversized head seeming to teeter on his frail neck.
"I'd hoped that once you got here and saw the glories of the dream-sea, you'd want to travel with me a little way. I can give you power. Truly I can. But only in my own country."
"How far?" Joe said.
There was no answer forthcoming. Infuriated, Joe went k to Noah, moving at such speed the creature raised its s to ward off a blow. "I'm not going to hit you," Joe said. Noah lowered his guard six inches. "I just want an honest answer."
Noah sighed. "My country is the Ephemeris," he said.
"And where's the Ephemeris?" Joe wanted to know.
Noah looked at him for perhaps ten seconds, and then pointed out to sea.
"No shit," Joe said, deadpan. "You really put one over on me."
"Put one over?" Noah said.
"Tricked me, asshole." He pushed his face at Noah, until they were almost nose to nose. "You tricked me."
"I believed you'd been sent to take me home," Noah said.
"Don't be pathetic."
"It's true, I did. I still do." He looked up at Joe. "You think that's ridiculous, that our lives could be intertwined that way?"
"Yes," said Joe.
Noah nodded. "So you must go back," he said. "And I'll stay. I feel stronger here, under my own sky. No doubt you'll feel stronger under yours."
Joe didn't miss the irony. "You know damn well what I'll be when I get back there."
"Yes, said Noah, getting to his feet. "Powerless." With that he started to hobble away down the beach. "Goodbye, Joe," he called after him.
"Asshole," Joe said, staring back up the shore at the sliver of night sky visible in the crack. What use would he be to himself or to Phoebe if he returned home now? He was a wounded fugitive. And just as Noah had pointed out, he was utterly powerless.
He turned again to scan the strange world into which he'd stepped. The distant city, the approaching procession, the storm raging over Quiddity's tumultuous waters: none of it looked particularly promising. But perhaps-just perhaps-there was hope for him here. A means to get power of some kind, any kind, that would make him a man to be reckoned with when he got back to his own world. Perhaps he'd have to sweat for it, but he'd sweated in the Cosm, hadn't he, and what had he got for his efforts? Broken balls.
"All fight," he said, going down the shore after Noah. "I'll stay. But I'm not carrying you, understand?"
Noah smiled back at him. "May I... put my arm around your shoulder, until I get some nourishment in me, and my legs are stronger?"
"I guess," said Joe.
Noah hooked his arm around Joe's neck. "There's.a beached boat down there," he said, "we'll take refuge until the procession's gone."
"What's so bad about these Blessedm'n?" Joe asked him as they made their hobbling way down to the vessel.