The Slanted Worlds Read Free Page B

have seen, treasures that, despite their dreams, had never made it to the world’s end.
    Then, over their painted stillness, Wharton faced her.
    The crowd hemmed her in; there was nowhere to run.
    He yelled something, his breath misted the glass.
    Furious, she shook her head. “Leave me alone!”
    He found space; he shoved people aside, powering his way around the mummy case toward her. She stepped on someone’s foot, wriggled out, found a wall, a fire alarm. Her hand shot out to the small glass disc.
    She hit his fleshy palm instead.
    â€œThat would be a really foolish thing to do, Sarah,” he gasped. “And not at all like you.”
    She was sweating. Her hair was in her eyes. She felt as if some long wearying effort, some exile had come to an end.
    â€œNo,” she said. And then, “You know, George, I’m really tired.”

    He could see that. As she sat in the café drinking the tea he had insisted on buying her, he thought she looked thin and worn, her eyes red-rimmed, her blond hair lank. Hungry too, if the way she demolished the egg mayo sandwiches meant anything.
    For a while he let her eat. Then he said, “Where have you been living?”
    â€œA hostel.”
    â€œStudent?”
    â€œHomeless.”
    He stared. “Sarah, why . . .”
    She swallowed a mouthful. “I’m stuck here now. In this time. I have to find a way to destroy the mirror, and that’s the last thing Venn wants. How can I go back to Wintercombe . . .”
    â€œHe wants you back. He’s been searching for you.”
    That was an understatement. As he watched her sip hot tea, Wharton thought of the night, four months ago nearly, when she had slipped, invisible, from the window at Wintercombe Abbey and walked off into the night, leaving behind only her footprints in the snow and those last, astonishing words.
    Now he said, “Did you think Venn wouldn’t move heaven and earth to find you? You told him you were . . . would be . . . his
granddaughter
. Even though his wife is dead and he has no children. You tell him that not only is it possible for him to change the past, but that in your time
he’s already done it!
And then you disappear!” He shrugged, and sipped his coffee. “Come on, Sarah. Even for a normal man that would be unbearable. For Oberon Venn, it was like the descent into madness.”
    She nodded. He realized he didn’t have to tell her that Venn had had his strange servant, Piers, virtually chained to the computer, spending every waking second combing every missing persons database, every police record he could hack into, phoning every hospital for miles around for news of her. She was far too intelligent. Nor could he, Wharton, even begin to express the utter relief he had felt seeing her pale astonished face up at the window. Because there was no way they could let her destroy the mirror.
    Not now.
    â€œYou have to come back with me,” he said.
    She stirred her tea, put the spoon down with a clink, stared at him over it. “No, I don’t. And you can’t make me. Nothing you can say will make me.”
    â€œSarah . . .”
    â€œI have work to do here! All Venn thinks about is getting Leah back from the dead. I can’t help him with that. That’s his problem. I suppose he’s been working at the mirror . . .”
    â€œNonstop. And Jake . . .”
    â€œYes, well, Jake needs to find his father. They both want opposite things to me. Selfish things! I have to destroy the mirror, and that means destroying their hopes. Destroying my own existence. We’re on opposite sides, George . . .”
    â€œThere are no sides. We need you.”
    â€œYou don’t. Just leave me alone.”
    She gathered her coat and stood, but he put one firm hand out across the table and grabbed her wrist in an iron grip.
    â€œListen to me. Venn is