Wildwood Imperium (Wildwood Chronicles 3)

Mudrak,” cried Elsie. “And we’re here to save our friends.”

“Carol is not in the room? Not Mr. Swindon, neither?”

Elsie glanced around the room, as if to confirm. The room was barely ten feet square; its interior decoration was limited to a wall of shelves faced by two chairs, one of which was toppled over. The other now carried the weight of Martha Song, who had her head in her hands. “Nope,” said Elsie.

Desdemona seemed to chew on this information for a second before saying, “Open door. I help you.”

Elsie looked around. “There’s no door.”

“There is,” came the response. “Keypad is below shelf.”

Sure enough, a small ten-key calculator-like pad presented itself below the first shelf on the far wall.

“Punch in five-eight-three pound key nine,” instructed Desdemona.

Elsie did so, and the door slid open. There, standing silhouetted by the lighting in the gigantic room beyond her, stood Desdemona Mudrak. She eyed the five children in the small room and frowned. “That T?????,” she said, directed at the man who was not present, the man who had scuttled off with Carol. Elsie guessed it had been a bad word. “What happened?”

“You tell me,” said Martha. “We were in here one moment, next moment your guy comes in wearing a dress and hits me over the head. Grabbed Carol and”—she made an explosion noise with her lips—“vanished.”

“Elevator,” said Desdemona. “They take secret elevator.”

“Right!” shouted Elsie, remembering herself. “They didn’t just vanish.”

“There was an elevator in here?” asked Martha, suddenly very deflated.

“Secret elevator,” qualified Desdemona. “Required access pass. Roger must know pass.”

“He didn’t need to know the pass. The security is turned off,” said Elsie. “Mr. Unthank did that. That’s our escape route.”

Desdemona, on hearing her former boyfriend’s name, seemed to lapse into a silent stupor. As if moving by a control that was not her own, she walked into the room and proceeded to peel back a panel on the other side of the small space. It rolled sideways fluidly, following unseen tracks, revealing the twin metal doors of a rather small elevator. An illuminated button, the size of a silver dollar, was inset in the panel to the left of the doors and it flashed a few times; an upward-pointing red arrow, lit, suggested that the elevator had just deposited its load and was in the process of returning to the top floor.

Martha forgot the ebbing pain in the back of her head where the man’s bottle had connected with her skull and leapt up, along with the other Unadoptables in the room, and dove for the elevator. Elsie managed the leap first; she was stabbing her finger repeatedly against the call button.

They would’ve been joined by Desdemona, had she not heard her name called to her, loudly, from inside Wigman’s office. She turned around to see Joffrey Unthank standing in the cavity between the massive brass doors at the front of the room.

“Joffrey,” she said.

“Dessie,” said Unthank.

Elsie glanced over her shoulder, witnessing the scene briefly before hearing the elevator arrive and the doors whisper open. She ushered the four other Unadoptables into the waiting car. The doors closed in front of her as she climbed in, leaving Desdemona and Joffrey to their private reunion.

“What is happened to you?” asked Desdemona, walking slowly toward Joffrey.

“I had to take some time, Dessie,” said Joffrey. “I had to clear my mind. Tra la tra lee.”

They arrived at the center of the room together, and Desdemona reached out her hands. “Oh, Joffrey, I’m so sorry for what it is I’ve done,” she said softly. “I did not mean to hurt.”

“I know, darling,” said Joffrey. “I know. In a way, you taught me. I emptied out, baby. I lost it all. But I found me.” He seemed to then shake himself from his surprise in seeing his girlfriend. He seemed to apprise himself of something much more serious. “But you shouldn’t be here now. You weren’t supposed to be. It’s not safe.”

A quick succession of explosions happened just then; a trio of soft, blossoming glows erupted outside the tall windows of the office, one after another, like fireflies. They backlit the two of them, Desdemona and Joffrey, as they gripped each other’s hands tightly, the line of their arms an obtuse angle.

“What’s happening?” asked Desdemona, searching Joffrey’s eyes.

“The Chapeaux Noirs, they’re attacking. This is it, Dessie. This is the big one.”

“The Chapeaux Noirs? But how do you know?”

“I’m with them now,” said Unthank, tears welling in his eyes. “Like I said. I found me. I’m changed. I’ve found my true self. And I want you to come with. I forgive you, Dessie. It was you who led me out of my darkness, tra la, my internal darkness. The fog of my mind. You set me on the right course, tra lee. You were my beacon, my guiding light.”