Page 11 of Mislaid in Parts Half-Known

“Because I missed being around other people,” said Antsy. “People my actual age would think it was weird if a teenager wanted to hang around them all the time, just like you’d think it was weird if someone who looked nine wanted to hang around you all the time, so it seemed best to keep my mouth shut.”

“Your world did this to you?” asked Cora.

Antsy pressed her lips into a thin line and shook her head. Then, more slowly, she nodded. “Yes,” she said. “And no. The world didn’t. The world is… The Place Where the Lost Things Go is neutral. Most Nexus worlds are. All of its magic goes into sorting and cataloging, and maintaining the Store.”

“You talk about them like they’re two different places,” said Emily.

“Because they are. You don’t talk about your bedroom and Ohio like they’re the same place, even if your bedroom’sinOhio. The Place is the world, and the Store is where travelers end up. I think maybe the Store is the actual Nexus.”

“You said we should talk about the doors—sorry, the Doors—like they were important enough to be worth what they cost,” said Kade. “What did you mean?”

Antsy hesitated. Finally, looking at her knees, she said, “Every time you open a Door, there’s a toll. It costs. I don’t know exactly how much, because it doesn’t take money, and it doesn’t tell you. You probably wouldn’t even notice unless it happened a whole bunch of times, over and over and over again.”

Emily gasped. The others turned to her, attention attracted by the sudden sound. She sat up straighter, refusing to wilt under the combined weight of their gazes, and said, “Time. That’s what they take. That’s why Antsy looks so much older than she is. The doors take time.”

Antsy nodded. “I opened alotof Doors,” she said, in a small voice.

Emily put an arm around her shoulders, suddenly protective. They made an odd tableau, the pale, skinny girl with the wild red hair and the body language of a wounded animal and the dark-skinned girl with the meticulous braids, holding Antsy close like she wanted to fight the world on her behalf.

“No one’s going to make you open any more, I promise,” she said. “We want to go home, but you’re not our skeleton key.”

Christopher made a choked noise.

Emily’s attention swung to him, expression silently questioning.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not trying to say Antsy should… It’s just that the term ‘skeleton key’ has some pretty bad associations at this school. A former student went on a murder spree not that long ago, trying to make one for herself.”

“I was a victim!” said Sumi cheerfully, raising her right hand to make a V sign next to her temple.

“What?” asked Emily.

Someone started knocking on the attic door. Christopher sighed. “Guess they got out of the turtle pond,” he said.

“Now what?” asked Cora.

“We could thump ’em!” said Sumi.

“The only one of us who’d be able to keep swinging once Seraphina was actually in the room is Christopher, and since she’d just make the rest of us gang up on him, that wouldn’t work,” said Kade.

“This is why I hate making plans,” said Sumi. “They always fall apart.”

“This was a good plan,” said Cora. “Find out whether Antsy could actually locate people’s doors, and talk to her about itprivately. We just forgot that Seraphina pays attention to gossip, and puts things together remarkably quickly sometimes.”

“Plan didn’t account for her being the one to figure it out for sure,” said Kade. “That’s on me. We were trying to figure out how we’d bring this up to Eleanor when Seraphina went and forced the issue. All right, Christopher. I’ve got some laundry sacks over there. Go ahead and grab one.”

“Why?” asked Christopher, already moving to do as he’d been told.

“Because you’re going to put it over Seraphina’s head before the rest of us can see her.”

Christopher stared at him. “You’rejoking. That’s not a solution. That’s a comedy routine.”

“Well, Lundy was the one who knew how to reflect that damned gaze of hers back on her, and she’s dead now, so we don’t have much better!” snapped Kade. The knocking on the door below was getting louder. It was beginning to verge on pounding. There were other voices in the hall now, students lured out of their room by the ruckus and pressedinto the ongoing assault on the attic door. “Aw, screw this. I’m calling my aunt.”

He got up and began digging through the books behind him, looking for his cellphone.

Antsy pulled away from Emily as she stood and stared off into the attic. “Or I could just get us out of here before she breaks the door down,” she said.

“Antsy?” asked Emily.

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